


The Real Memory

by Enigmaticrose4



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Mystery, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-30
Updated: 2011-08-18
Packaged: 2017-10-17 09:23:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 56,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigmaticrose4/pseuds/Enigmaticrose4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Voldemort strikes and Harry falls. When he comes back to himself he isn't at Kings Cross with Dumbledore. Instead he's at the Dursleys, going to Stonewall High instead of Hogwarts. Why?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wakes up.

"Harry Potter," he said very softly. His voice might have been part of the spitting fire. "The Boy Who Lived."

None of the Death Eaters moved. They were waiting. Everything was waiting. Hagrid was struggling, and Bellatrix was panting, and Harry thought inexplicably of Ginny, and her blazing look, and the feel of her lips on his –

Voldemort had raised his wand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Harry looked back into the red eyes, and wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand, before he lost control, before he betrayed fear –

He saw the mouth move and a flash of green light, and everything was gone.

XXX

He lay facedown, listening to the silence. He was perfectly alone. Nobody was watching. Nobody else was there. He was not perfectly sure that he was there himself.

A long time later, or maybe no time at all, it came to him that he must exist, must be more than disembodied thought, because he was lying, definitely lying, on some surface. Therefore he had a sense of touch, and the thing against which he lay existed too.

Almost as soon as he had reached this conclusion, Harry became conscious that he wasn't really alone. Something not too far away was beeping.

It was beeping quite loudly actually.

Cracking one eye open, he blearily saw a digital alarm clock on a wooden nightstand. Confused, he flopped onto his back and looked around. He was in a room that looked oddly familiar, and yet different.

It was his room back at the Dursleys, and yet it wasn't at the same time. The bed, desk, nightstand, window, bookcase, and cabinet were the same. Yet what was on and inside of these items was different.

The room was painted a calming shade of green and the window was hung with royal blue curtains. Lining the bookshelf were books on sports, mixed in were a few fantasy novels. Mixed in among the books were soccer trophies. Sitting on his desk was a computer like Dudley had. Hanging from the desk chair was a schoolbag loaded with textbooks.

There was no trunk or birdcage anywhere to be seen.

Slowly sitting up, he looked around the room once more, only then coming to another realization.

He was seeing just fine, without any glasses on. His eyes were oddly dry though. Wondering what was going on he stumbled out of bed and yanked open his cabinet door. He peered at himself in the mirror.

There, faintly, he could see a contact in his eye. When had he gotten contacts?

Forget the contacts. What was he doing at the Dursleys? Why wasn't he dead? Or was he dead? Was this heaven? If so, he could think of much better places to be than the Dursleys.

Harry was interrupted from his musings by Aunt Petunia yelling up the stairs. "Harry! Dudley! Hurry up! You're going to be late for school!"

Now Harry was really confused. He and Dudley both went to boarding schools. What were they doing here? Why wasn't he at Hogwarts? Or dead? Why wasn't Dudley at Smeltings? Or in hiding?

Blindly Harry grabbed one of the rather nice grey uniforms from the closet and put it on. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he would play along. Maybe it was something that Voldemort had done to him or maybe he really was dead.

Harry ran into Dudley in the hallway. He almost yelled in shock. Dudley smiled cheerfully at him and said, "Mornin, Harry!" Before practically leaping down the stairs, his movements fluid and graceful, like a dancers.

That couldn't really be Dudley, Harry thought, it had to be someone using Polyjuice Potion.

Unsure of what was awaiting him downstairs. Harry immediately reached in his pocket for his wand, only to realize that he didn't seem to have a wand here, wherever 'here' was.

After going down the stairs he stood next to the cupboard under the stairs, wondering if that was different also. He took a deep breath and then pulled open the cabinet door.

The cabinet was stuffed with boxes. They were all labeled. One near the top was labeled 'Pictures'. Harry pulled it out and looked inside. Lying on the top was a picture of him and Dudley riding their bikes down the street.

Harry had never learned how to ride a bike.

What was going on?

Flipping through the rest of the box quickly Harry realized it contained more pictures of him and Dudley growing up – pictures of events that Harry had no memory of.

Panic began rising in Harry's chest. Who was the person in those pictures? He couldn't be dead, if he was dead there wouldn't be pictures of things he had no memory of.

He also couldn't be using a pensive somehow. Dudley had spoken to him and this didn't feel like Slughorn's warped memory had felt.

Could he have gone insane? Was that it? Had Voldemort's curse caused him to go insane instead of killing him?

Completely unsure of what was going on and wishing that Hermione was here to explain things Harry put the box away. At the thought of Hermione another pain went through Harry's chest.

Hermione, Ron, Ginny….

Were they gone? Were they here, wherever 'here' was, but changed? Like Dudley?

"Harry? You need to eat; you're too thin as it is."

Harry glanced up to see his Aunt Petunia standing in the doorway to the kitchen. A pleasant smile was on her face and a greasy spatula was in her hand.

Harry nodded and shut the door to the cabinet. She didn't ask him why he had been looking in the cabinet, which struck Harry as extremely odd. The Aunt Petunia he knew would've been on him in an instant for poking his nose in places he shouldn't have.

Harry sat through the oddest breakfast at the Dursleys in his life. Uncle Vernon chatted about what he read in the paper. Not once did he act like he was better than anyone in there. Aunt Petunia and Dudley responded back with pointed and intuitive questions about what was going on in the world. For the first time Harry felt like the idiot at the table.

Once breakfast was over it was time to go to school.

Harry grabbed the bag he had seen slung over his desk chair and followed Dudley outside.

"Harry, you want to drive?" Dudley asked as they approached a small green car parked behind Uncle Vernon's company car.

Harry did NOT want to drive. He had never sat behind a wheel in his life. Apparently though, the Harry that this Dudley knew had. "Ah, no thanks, you can drive." Harry managed to get out before getting in the passenger seat as Dudley walked around to the driver's side.

As they got on the road Dudley asked, "Hey Harry, you alright? You seem a little off this morning. Have another dream about your parents?"

"Huh, what?" Harry said in confusion. He had been thinking about Voldemort and what was happening at Hogwarts. Was the war still going on? Was he just trapped in his own mind, unable to do a thing?

"You know those dreams. Where you're trapped inside the burning building and your parents are screaming. The dreams about the night your parents died and you got that scar." He pointed at Harry's forehead.

"Um, I'm feeling out of it. How'd I get the scar again?" Harry hoped that excuse was good enough. He wanted to know what everyone in this place thought his scar was from.

"Duh, from that necklace you're wearing. The house caught on fire and you and your parents were trapped. Your mom threw herself on top of you, but the necklace your father gave her burned into your forehead when it melted. You were only a year old; I don't know how you dream about it. Have I ever told you that you're weird?"

"Um, sure you have." Harry said distractedly as he pulled a necklace out from under his shirt. He hadn't noticed it before. Was that because he had been distracted? Or had it not been there until Dudley mentioned it?

Harry was so confused.

Sure enough, he had thin gold necklace with a lightning bolt charm on it. The charm was slightly melted, but it still looked like a lightning bolt. Reaching out, gently, Harry touched the charm.

Instantly he felt a shock run through him, like the lightning bolt had been real.

Memories washed over him. Memories that conflicted with the ones he already had.

When he asked how he got his scar he wasn't snapped at and told not to ask questions, instead he was pulled into Aunt Petunia's arms and told the story Dudley just told him.

When Aunt Marge came to visit he was given presents, just like Dudley.

When they were picked for sports Harry was either first or second, depending on the sport. He even got onto a soccer team when he entered Stonewall High with Dudley.

These new memories included shopping trips, during which he got clothes of his own. Including a trip when he was eleven to proudly get school uniforms with Dudley.

So many memories came that Harry felt overwhelmed. How could he have two different memories of his eleventh birthday? One involving Hagrid and Diagon Alley and the other involving lots of friends and a trip to the bowling alley.

Which was the real memory?

What was going on?

Was he a wizard or wasn't he?


	2. Erasing Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The facade Harry creates begins to come crashing down.

Harry was dragged out of his memories by Dudley snapping his fingers in front of Harry's face.

"Hey, Harry. Wake up, we're at the school."

Harry shook himself, "Oh, sorry Dudley. I lost myself in thought for a moment."

Dudley chuckled, "Were you think about that girl again? You really should ask her out. You are the star of the soccer team."

Harry had brief flashes of – wait – LAVENDER BROWN? What was she doing here? It couldn't be possible. And yet it was. He had memories of her giving him little love notes and of himself flirting with her. That really shocked Harry. He was about as adept at flirting with girls as Hermione was at catching a snitch!

"You mean Brown?" Harry asked casually, not really sure if he wanted it to be her or not.

"Ya, that girl," Dudley said as he grabbed his bag and got out of the car. "You better ask her fast if you want a piece. We graduate soon and she's not the sort you want to be involved with after school is over."

"No, no she's not." Harry said with a shudder as he remembered Ron's relationship with her. Wondering what Lavender Brown was doing at Stonewall, Harry grabbed his bag and followed Dudley into the school.

His new memories told him what to expect, but he still couldn't believe it. As he walked down the halls everyone smiled and waved and called "Hey there, Harry!" and "What's up, Harry?" and "Good Game last night, Harry!"

He had never been so well-known in the muggle world before.

Harry spent the day being worshipped – which greatly disturbed him – while trying to avoid Lavender Brown. Harry could just tell that if he did a single thing to encourage her he would be sucked into a relationship like Ron had been. He really didn't want that for several reasons – the most important being that he still loved Ginny, wherever she was in this mixed up reality.

During lunch Harry escaped into a bathroom and tried apparating to the Burrow.

Nothing happened.

He got dragged off to soccer practice after school. Somehow he knew how to play and he did it rather well. This was, as long as he didn't think about it too much. It was when he tried to think that problems occurred.

So he just let his instincts run wild as he considered what was going on. Whatever it was, he knew the best thing to do would be to not draw attention to himself in any unusual ways.

He could hear Hermione telling him to wait and watch, and use his luck to work his way through. An opportunity would present itself and everything would make sense in the end, it always did.

That evening Harry at dinner with the Dursleys, did homework, and watched the news. It was the weirdest evening at the Dursleys in his life, just like breakfast had been.

The days and weeks slowly passed. Harry kept avoiding Lavender, especially when he realized she was just like the Dursleys – no memory of his old memories.

Eventually school ended, Harry and Dudley graduated. It took some digging through his new memories, but eventually Harry learned that he had been accepted at Cambridge. None of the memories made much sense to him; he had no clue how he had done that.

It was also a bit of a shock to him when he discovered that his parents had left him large trust fund to be used for his education.

A few weeks into the summer Harry excused himself for the day and caught the train into London for the day.

He was excited and hopeful. Maybe something had happened to the people, but the wizarding world still had to be there. He'd find The Leaky Cauldron and go through it to Diagon Alley. There had to someone or something there to help him set things right. There had to be.

Wandering around he eventually found the street The Leaky Cauldron was supposed to be on. He walked past the spot it should've been in ten, twenty, fifty times.

But it wasn't there, no matter how hard he looked.

Harry then took the underground up to King's Cross Station. Immediately he went to the area between Platform 9 and Platform 10. Instead of the familiar brick barriers there were spindly metal barriers.

Hopeful, Harry leaned against one of them, nothing happened. Harry couldn't stay much longer, a guard started giving him funny looks.

Beginning to fell desperate, Harry tried one last thing.

He went to 12 Grimmauld Place.

It wasn't there.

As the train took him back to Little Whinging, Harry began to doubt his old memories.

Maybe, just maybe, what had really happened was that he had a dream so realistic, that when he woke he thought it was real. A dream so real that it had affected his brain and pushed out his real memories that only touching an object so real and dear to him – the necklace – had brought his real self back.

Deciding that was the truth, Harry closed his eyes and relaxed while the train rolled steadily down the track. He had merely had an amazing dream about wizards, brooms, and magic. Nothing more.

Harry went off to Cambridge in the fall and had the time of his life. He slowly put the dream behind him as he accepted being a semi-famous soccer player. He had plenty of friends and he usually switched out his girl friend every three to nine months. Before he knew it his schools were completely over and he was signing on with England National Soccer Team.

Life was wonderful for Harry and yet the dream nagged at the back of his mind, especially when he was on the verge of falling asleep. That was all it was though, just a dream.

Albeit, an odd one, but still, just a dream.

He did question the fact that it was a dream when he saw a red-headed reporter at one game that reminded him a lot of Ginny, the girlfriend in his dream. But he never learned the reporter's name or saw her again, so he chocked it up to his imagination.

The years turned and Harry grew in popularity. Fans loved the thin scar on his forehead, they claimed it made him special. They loved the story of how he got it even more. Harry wasn't sure how they learned, but he was willing to bet that it had been Dudley. Even though the two of them were friends they couldn't stop from annoying each other.

It was on a cold, snowy morning a few days before Christmas that Harry was riding the train from London down to Little Whinging to go visit spend the holidays with Dudley, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon.

He'd already finished the book he had been reading, so bored, he picked up one of those silly free papers handed out every day in London.

Harry opened it to a random page and immediately felt his body lose all of it's warmth.

There, in the photo for an article on some medical breakthrough was Severus Snape. Harry would never be able to forget his face, dream or not. The article couldn't be right though, Snape was dead! Harry had seen it himself. Wait, no he hadn't, that had been in those old memories, the ones put there by the dream. Right?

Freaking out, Harry hurriedly flipped to another page. There was an article there on a brother and sister that had been apprehended for torture and murder. Their last name was Carrow.

How had he known those names and faces all those years ago if he hadn't seen them in the paper until today?

Which memories were real?

Harry thought it was the non-wizard ones.

But now he didn't know.

Had he gone insane?

Is that why he was seeing people from a dream in newspaper articles?

Or was the dream the reality?

Had Voldemort killed him and this was his heaven?

If he was dead, had he seen Lavender, Snape, and the Carrows because they were also dead?

Did that mean the Dursleys hadn't survived going into hiding? Were they also dead?

Wait, had that reporter really been Ginny? Was she dead? Had Harry failed to protect her?

He remembered going into the Room of Requirement and making Ginny leave. Had that gotten her killed?

Why did the dream feel more real than the train he was sitting on?

For almost seven years now he had believed that the wizarding world was a dream. Had he been wrong? Had he been deluding himself?

As the snow fell softly around the moving train, Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived or the famous soccer star, put his head in his arms and tried to erase himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Harry's spent seven years trying to believe that the wizarding world was a dream, until confronted with new evidence. Anyone have any ideas on what's happening and how he got there? Mwhahaha, I don't think anyone can guess! :) hehe
> 
> Enjoy! Read! Review!


	3. Christmas Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry comes to terms that the world is not all it seems.

Harry always thought that the Dursleys house looked like something out of a fairy tale when it snowed around Christmastime

Just like it did right now.

They weren't expecting him until tomorrow, so no one had met him at the train station. Trying to clear his mind of the uncomfortable memories and odd newspaper articles, he had decided to walk rather than call them or a cab.

The snow drifted down around him as he looked at the only home he had ever known. He had so many happy memories in this house, yet not all the memories were happy. He had other memories, ones that he tried to keep buried. Memories of only getting old socks for Christmas, of being locked in cupboard under the stairs, and of being emotionally and verbally abused all the time.

Shaking his head to clear it of the horrible memories, Harry shouldered his duffle bag and walked up the drive to snow-covered house bedecked in cheerful Christmas lights.

The front door was unlocked, so Harry turned the knob and stepped inside as he hollered, "Hey! I'm home!"

Home – that was what this house was. His flat in London wasn't home, that was just where he stayed between games. He had no family there, no close friends – just fans and people that were only friends as long as he was famous.

"Harry?" He heard his Aunt Petunia say as she stuck her head out of the kitchen doorway. Upon seeing him she smiled and ran towards – enveloping him in a hug an instant after he dropped his bag on the floor.

Once he escaped the hug he took off his jacket and hung it up in the closet as she watched with a happy smile on her face as she looked him over. "You really don't eat enough do you? Don't worry! We'll fatten you up while you're here!"

Harry chuckled, "Aunt Petunia, if you fatten me up I won't be able to run fast enough to score goals."

"Nonsense! Now come in here and have some tea. We have a guest over by the way. He's an up and coming executive at Vernon's company. He's a rather pleasant young man. He'll be joining us for Christmas Dinner also since he's unable to get to his family for the holidays because of work. I think you'll like him"

"If you and Uncle Vernon like him, I'm sure I will also." Harry said as he tried to dispel memories of a house elf and a dropped pudding.

Harry followed Aunt Petunia into the kitchen. When she moved out of the way he turned to great the young executive, a pleasant smile on his face.

Harry froze in shock at the sight of the person sitting in a chair, talking to Uncle Vernon. No… It couldn't be… He just LOOKED like someone from Harry's dream memories. His name couldn't be-

"Percy Weasley, this is our nephew, Harry Potter." Aunt Petunia said in introduction.

The bespectacled redhead stood up and stuck his hand out towards Harry. "Harry Potter? As in the soccer player?"

Numbly, Harry nodded as shook hands with Percy. This couldn't be happening. How had he dreamed about this person years before he met him?

"Amazing! I know it's rude, but would you mind if I got an autograph? My younger brother is a huge fan of yours." Percy gushed as he continued to shake Harry's hand.

Wanting his hand back, Harry found the ability to speak. "Oh, no problem, just let me get some paper and a pen."

Percy immediately let go of Harry's hand as Aunt Petunia gave him a piece of paper and a pen.

"His name's Ronald Weasley, though you can probably just address it to Ron. He'll love it. This will more than make up for my being unable to join them this year." Percy said excitedly.

Ron… Harry couldn't believe it. Ron was real also, he was here. Memories of first meeting Ron on the Hogwarts expressed flashed through his mind. Just signing a piece of paper wasn't good enough for Ron. Harry had a better idea. Even if this Ron wasn't the same one as in his dream, he couldn't just give him a piece of paper.

"Hold on a second. I'll be right back." Harry said as he got up and ran out of the room.

Hurrying upstairs he opened his cabinet and pulled out an old soccer ball, one he had used when he was younger. Grabbing a sharpie off his desk he wrote a short note on the ball.

Ron,

Life is like a game of chess, you have to lose some to win some and find your checkmate. If you ever want a ticket to a game, let me know.

Harry Potter

Harry didn't know why he wrote the part about the tickets. He really didn't know this person, he only knew a Ron from his odd dream memories, but still, he couldn't help himself.

Hurrying back downstairs he tossed the ball at Percy, "Give that to your brother."

Percy's eyes grew wide in shock as he read the words on the ball. "Blimey Harry, this is too much."

Harry shrugged, "No it's not, but if you think so then repay me by telling me a bit about your family."

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia watched on curiously – Uncle Vernon from his place by the fire and Aunt Petunia from the kitchen as she fixed some more tea.

"Well, my father's a civil servant and my mother is a homemaker. I have six siblings. The oldest is Bill –he's married to a French woman and works for a bank. Next is Charlie – he's a Zoologist and works down in Africa. In terms of age I'm next. Then comes Fred and George – they're twins and they own a party/joke shop in London called Zonkos. Next is Ron – he's a police officer in London and a diehard soccer fan. The youngest and only girl is Ginny – she's a reporter that usually covers sporting events. That's the Weasley Clan." Percy says in a rush.

Harry felt like he was going into shock. Sure, there was no magic involved in what they were doing. But every single Weasleys' job was insanely close to what they had been in his dream.

Harry didn't want to think about it very much, but he had to admit, at least to himself, that his dream all those years ago probably hadn't been a dream.

Unconsciously Harry reached up and touched his lightning bolt necklace as Aunt Petunia pressed a hot cup of tea in his other hand.

As he fiddled with the necklace he couldn't help but wonder: If that hadn't been a dream, what had it been? Was this the dream? Was he actually lying there in the Forbidden Forest? If so, why hadn't Voldemort succeeded in killing him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the plot thickens...how many of you figured out that the young executive was someone from the books? How many realized it was Percy before I showed his name? Hmm?
> 
> Enjoy! Read! Review!


	4. Breakfast of Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry becomes reaquainted with his best friend.

Harry spent Christmas in a daze. Spending a Christmas with Percy was so odd as to make him feel completely detached from reality – especially since he'd never spent a Christmas with him in his other memories, the Magic Memories, as he had dubbed them.

The first Christmas he had spent at the Weasleys in his Magic Memories had been after Percy had a falling out with his family. Watching Percy sit there and smile and chat with Dudley about some office joke that was going around made him feel even more detached.

Soon after Christmas Dinner Harry walked out into the hall, only to bump into Percy, who was on his cell phone talking to his mother. Seeing Percy on a cell phone almost made him pass out from shock. It just didn't fit, like the image of Uncle Vernon waving a wand and riding a broomstick.

"Oh, hold on a second Mum." Percy pulled the phone away from his ear and covered the mouthpiece. "Sorry, Potter, am I in your way?" He asked as he backed up against the wall so Harry could pass him.

"Huh? Oh, no, I was just heading to the loo." Harry said quickly as he moved past him. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to stop tears from appearing as he heard Mrs. Weasley's voice over the phone.

"Percy? What's going on? Who's Potter? Does this have to do with that surprise you mentioned?"

Harry ran up the stairs as Percy got back on the phone and tried to placate his mother. Hearing Mrs. Weasley's voice and knowing that she didn't really know him… That tore at his heart as Magic Memories of her took over his mind.

He stumbled into the bathroom and managed to shut and lock the door before the tears came and the Magic Memories took over.

What he wouldn't do for a pensive…

XXX

Harry had been back in London for a couple of weeks when he got a call from his agent one morning saying that some cop with a signed soccer ball was claiming that Harry had given him permission to call him.

Heart beating like a drum Harry gave his agent some instructions and then grabbed his jacket and headed to a small café near Harrods that was never busy in the morning during the week.

He was on his second cup of tea when a ginger-haired cop walked through the door. There was no mistaking it, the cop was Ronald Weasley.

Ron stood in the doorway, a hesitant look on his face as he took off his sunglasses and looked around the room, letting his eyes adjust to the gloom.

Harry couldn't help smiling when Ron finally spotted him. As Ron nervously approached another first meeting flitted through his brain. Two boys meeting on a train for the first time, both unsure and nervous about what waited at the end of the train ride, despite their excitement.

"Um, Harry Potter?" Ron asked tentatively when he reached Harry's table.

Harry couldn't suppress a chuckle. He casually pushed the chair across from him out with his foot. "No need to be so nervous. Take a seat and order some food. That is, if I can get the waitress's attention. She's rather bad about customer service."

Ron relaxed a little, but still didn't slump into his seat like Harry remembered from his Magic Memories. Either this Ron was different, or he was still a little nervous.

"If the customer service is bad, why do you come here?"

"The food is great and the price is right." Harry said as flagged down the bustling older waitress.

"Can I help you?" She asked when she reached the table.

"Ya, I'd love a good English breakfast and some more tea. Then whatever he wants. All on one check."

The waitress turned her piercing gaze on Ron.

Ron swallowed nervously before seeming to remember that he was a cop, he had no reason to fear a simple waitress. "I'll have the same, though coffee and orange juice instead of tea."

The waitress just nodded sharply and sped back to the kitchen, like all the hounds of hell were snapping at her heels.

"I see what you mean about the customer service," Ron commented as he studied Harry.

Harry took the chance to study Ron. He wasn't the same gangly boy from his Magic Memories. This Ron was filled out and carried a aura of peace and confidence about him that the Magic Ron had only carried rarely – usually when he was defending those he cared about.

"You don't look too much like your brother, minus the hair of course." Harry commented mildly, doing his best to ignore the overwhelming urge to ask about Ginny.

"Ya, I guess that's cause Percy's a prat. I mean, he's got his heart in the right place, but he's a prat."

Harry felt himself wanting to slip into his Magic Memories. Ron calling Percy a prat was almost as common as Hermione quoting a book.

Instead he just chuckled, "Funny, he could only sing your praises."

Ron blushed and mumbled, "Well, that's because he's only a prat around his family."

The waitress appeared with their drinks. Harry fixed his tea before starting up the conversation again.

"So, what made you want to be a cop?"

Ron's expression grew rather distant and sad. "Someone very close to me got mugged and beaten rather badly about six years ago. The cops were so overworked that they never found the culprit."

Harry felt anger lash through him at the pain on Ron's face. Who had been mugged? Was it someone from his Magic memories? He opened his mouth to ask, "Who-"

Ron seemed to read his mind and cut in, "Hey, can we talk about something else? That's a rather painful subject."

Realizing he wouldn't get anywhere by asking, Harry took Ron's suggestion and changed the topic. "Sure, do you want a couple tickets for our game on March 1st against Uruguay at Anfield? It's just a friendly game so I can get you several tickets if you want."

Ron's face lit up like a little kid's at Christmastime. "Really? I really only need two, one for me and another for my wife. But if you have another my sister would love to go."

Harry's heart leapt at the thought of seeing Ginny. "Sure, I can get you three tickets. I'll even send you some passes so you can come meet the team afterwards."

"You're the best Harry!" It took a moment, but Ron suddenly realized what he said. A look of shock and embarrassment crossed his face when he realized he called Harry by his first name.

It didn't bother Harry at all, the thought of Ron calling him 'Potter' made him nauseous. So he just chuckled and waved his hand. "it's fine, you can call me Harry. I get the feeling we could be friends, and friends don't call each other by their last name."

Ron grinned enthusiastically as the waitress put the food in front of them. Once she was gone he tore into his bacon as he said, "Call me Ron then."

Harry barely understood him through the bacon, but he still got the gist of it, "Sure thing, Ron."

The two of them ate in silence for awhile. Pure happiness pulsed through Harry's veins. For the first time in seven years he thanked the Magic Memories. Whatever his connection was with Ron, he was glad it was still there with this Ron, he had missed it.

When they were done eating Harry paid, though it took him awhile to catch the waitress. While they waited for his credit card Ron thanked him.

"Thanks for breakfast; I should make it up for you."

Harry held up his hand, "No need, it's nice to talk to someone that doesn't treat me like a celebrity."

Ron smiled genuinely back at him, "I'm sure it is, but you want to come over for dinner on Friday? We'd love to have you."

"Sure," Harry agreed as he inwardly hoped that the other half of the 'we' was Hermione. But he couldn't be sure, not in this muggle world. He wasn't even sure if they'd still be together in the Magic World at this time. They'd only ever shared one kiss and lots of fights.

The waitress came back with Harry's credit card and Ron wrote his address and phone number on the back of the receipt.

"We'll see you at seven then," Ron said happily as the two of them walked out the door.

"Alright, see you on Friday."

Harry slowly walked back to his flat, enjoying the cold weather and for the first time feeling perfectly fine with having two sets of memories. As long as he had Ron by his side everything would turn out alright in the end.

Plus, he'd be seeing Ginny in about a month.

Yes, things were definitely looking better, despite the fact that he had no idea why he had two sets of memories.

Reaching under his jacket to grip his necklace, Harry slowly walked down the busy street, lost in memories of Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.


	5. Through the Sitting Room Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has dinner with Ron and discovers who he's married to.

After his breakfast with Ron he was sure that both sets of memories were real somehow. He just had to figure out WHY they were both real. And he knew he couldn't figure this out on his own, he needed his best mates with him, just like they had always been there with him in his Magic Memories.

Hopefully Hermione was Ron's wife – then he wouldn't have to hunt her down.

Harry spent the next few days staying busy as he looked forward to Friday. His days were filled with soccer practice and dodging the occasional fangirl. That was the only thing he hated about playing soccer.

Wearing dress slacks and a sports jacket, Harry headed out the door, tossing his most recent package from a fangirl: a love note and a container full of chocolate rum balls. Harry didn't even read the love note, they were all the same. Each girl proclaimed that only they could understand him, that he was their one true love and that he was super awesome.

Harry got the doorman to flag a cab down. He stared out the cab window, watching the city fly by, all the people walking around, going about their business. Were they all just figments of his imagination? Had the protection given by his mother's love still resided on him, causing him to enter a coma instead of dying?

Was he like the princess in Sleeping Beauty?

Harry smacked his forehead. Now he was just being stupid. He was as likely of being Sleeping Beauty as Hagrid was of being Tinkerbell.

At the thought of Hagrid, pain lashed through his chest. Where was his first friend now? Was he in this world? That didn't seem possible, he was a half-giant, and there was no magic, let alone giants, in this world.

The cab rolled to a stop in front of a nice, but worn, apartment building on the south side of the Thames. Sitting on the apartment steps was a young man of about Harry's age, strumming on a guitar as he hummed to himself. He was still in his coat and tie, just trying to forget the day.

Harry could relate, sometimes after a long day of training he would wander down to Hyde Park and just watch the people going about their normal lives. None of them had two sets of memories tearing them apart inside. He didn't think the guitar player had two sets of memories, but he obviously had something else weighing on him.

Harry paid the cab driver and headed up the steps. As he passed the guitar player he caught a quick glimpse of the dark face and got the feeling that he knew him. He didn't know if he knew him from the Magic or Muggle Memories.

Putting the guitar player out of his mind Harry pushed the buzzer for the first flat. A moment later Ron buzzed him in and Harry went indoors, excitement swelling up inside him again.

He had never had as good a friend as Ron in either set of memories. No one quite seemed to understand him quite like Ron and Hermione had in his Magic Memories. Maybe, just maybe, he could have that again here.

Ron was just opening the door when Harry reached the landing.

"Hey there, Harry!" Ron said cheerfully, despite the fact that he was wearing a frilly blue apron.

"Hey," Harry said with a smile as Ron showed him where to hang his coat.

"Why don't you make yourself at home? The sitting room is through that door," he pointed to a nearby door. "I'll be back in a minute, I need to go rescue the gravy from burning."

Harry wasn't sure what surprised him more, Ron in an apron or the fact that Ron was cooking.

Deciding not to dwell on it to much he pushed open the sitting room door, wondering what he was going to do while he waited.

He didn't have to wonder long.

Sitting by the window, in an electric wheelchair, was Hermione.

Her hair was just as bushy as ever, though it was cut shorter than he remembered, probably so would be easier to care for. When she realized he was there he watched as she moved her hand rather jerkily, causing the chair to turn around to face him. He couldn't help but gasp when he saw her. She had a huge, ugly scar running from her left temple down to her chin.

Seeing the pain that appeared in her eyes at his gasp Harry said the first thing that popped into his head. "You're the reason he joined the police."

A sadly sardonic smile appeared on her face, "Yes, you could say that." She eyed him up and down for a moment. "You're the famous Harry Potter then?"

Harry got a hold of himself and tried to resurrect his interview skills, the same skills Aunt Petunia had drilled into him when she realized he was good enough to play pro-soccer if he could play the part. He couldn't dwell too much on the fact that one of his best friends was paralyzed.

He gave her a wide smile, "Yep, that's me. I assume you're Mrs. Weasley?"

She raised one delicate eyebrow at him, "Mrs. Weasley? If you call me that I might sprout red hair and start becoming overprotective. Please, call me Hermione." She raised her right hand up a little, obviously wanting to shake his hand.

Harry honestly chuckled at her comment as he crossed the small room. He was glad he didn't have to call her Mrs. Weasley – that would really up the weirdness factor.

He gently shook her hand, feeling how thin and bony she was. He couldn't believe that she was so delicate. The Hermione from his Magic Memories would never be this delicate.

"Pleased to meet you, Hermione," he said as he released her hand and took a seat nearby, so they were on eye level.

"It's nice to meet you also. Ron's been so happy since your breakfast together. Just last night he was singing your praises to his twin brothers. They couldn't believe that he had met you." Hermione said with a small smile.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle; he could just see Fred and George giving Ron a hard time, not believing that he had met someone famous.

"They sound interesting. I think I'm at a disadvantage though. You know that I'm a soccer player, but I have no idea what you do." Harry said, trying to find out more about this Hermione.

"I'm a freelance writer. I write articles and essays on our current social and political system. Most of these go online, but a few get published in magazines or newspapers. There's not much I can do from this chair to help improve this world. The best I can hope for is to inspire those around me to do what I cannot."

Harry felt his heart go out to her. She was so like the Hermione he knew, but yet she wasn't. It was almost as if her fighting spirit had left her when she lost the ability to walk. "That sounds fascinating, do you write under a pen name? I'll look your articles up when I get home." He blushed, "I don't do much reading outside of the world of sports."

Hermione smiled, a little more like the girl he remembered, "Honestly, I'm surprised you read at all. I thought all big athletes just partied and played games."

Ron came in just then, "Hermione, of course he reads, honestly, don't you listen to me? He graduated from Cambridge!"

"No, Ron, I turn off my ears when you go on about sports." She looked back over at Harry, "You graduated from Cambridge? What did you study?"

Ron's mouth was flopping open and closed like a fish, still trying to process the fact that Hermione never listened to him about sports.

Harry just smiled, glad that Ron and Hermione hadn't changed as much as the Dursleys had. Not that he minded the Dursleys changes. It was much nicer to have a caring family. "I took Management Studies," he shrugged at her shocked look. "I figured that if when I get too old to play I may try coaching or managing a team."

Harry realized right then that Hermione changed her opinion of him. He was no longer a big athlete that lived entirely in the now, he was a human being with a thought for the future. And Hermione always approved of planning for the future.

The rest of the evening passed really smoothly. Ron's cooking was actually pretty good, not that he could compete with his mother's cooking. Hermione and Ron were completely relaxed around Harry by the time they were done eating.

They sat around the table, long after the food was gone, just discussing things. Harry could never remember afterwards what they discussed, but he remembered the feelings, the atmosphere. It was just like it had been back at Hogwarts in his Magic Memories.

The evening came to a close at almost midnight when Harry invited them to dinner the next Friday.

"It won't be home cooked, I'm an atrocious cook." Harry said with a grin, "But I can promise it will be delicious."

"That's good enough for me!" Ron said as he grinned back at Harry.

Hermione just smiled wryly as she said, "Boys!"

As Harry rode back to his flat that evening he only felt happiness. At that moment in time it didn't matter which memories were real, or if he was dead or in a coma. All that mattered was that he had real friends again.


	6. Fanatical Fans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry enjoys a pleasant dinner party with his friends.

When Harry got home from dinner with Ron and Hermione he spent some time looking up some of her articles. As expected, they were all firm and logical in their arguments. Reading them reminded him so much of her arguments on the treatment of House Elves. Except here she was talking about orphanages, gun control, and other muggle concerns.

At about two in the morning her finally turned off his computer and fell into bed, just barely remembering to take out his contacts.

An hour later he awoke in a cold sweat from what could only be described as a nightmare. He had been walking through the Forbidden Forest again, heading to meet Voldemort. Everything felt the same, until he turned the Resurrection Stone in his palm. After that it all changed.

Instead of seeing his parents, Lupin, and Sirius, he saw Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville. They all pleaded with him to turn back, that he couldn't do it, that his sacrifice would be for naught. They couldn't win without him alive. That alone was disturbing, but their appearances haunted him. They didn't look like when he last saw them in his Muggle Memories.

Instead they looked like they would now, in this world. Hermione was in her chair, which was somehow able to cover the uneven ground. Ron looked as he had when Harry saw him during dinner, down to the frilly apron. Ginny looked a bit like that red-haired reporter he caught a glimpse of once, but when he woke he couldn't remember her face clearly, he just knew it had been different. Neville had looked –different. That was the only way to describe it. He had looked like the Neville that Harry knew from his Magic Memories, but he had also been different.

As they continued to plead with him he had come upon a swift, rocky stream he had never seen before. Without thinking, he'd stepped into it. The next thing he knew he was being pulled down into water so cold that it stole his breath away. He had struggled, trying to surface, desperate for air as his lungs began to fill with water. Then, just before the world had gone dark and the water had claimed him forever, he had awoken in his bed.

Harry stumbled out of his bed, yanking the door to his balcony open, he went outside and just stood there, staring up at the stars. That was one thing that was the same in both sets of memories – the stars.

Harry gripped the railing and stared up at the familiar stars, trying to remind himself that the dream had not been from his memories – that it couldn't be. There was no magic in this world so there was no Resurrection Stone. And the Ron and Hermione he had seen had been from this world, not the magic world.

There was no way his dream was real.

It was just brought on by his meeting with Ron and Hermione. He'd been so caught up in his Magic Memories lately, comparing these two people with the people he knew in his Magic Memories, when really, they were entirely different people, despite the similarities. All of these thoughts and memories had affected his dreams, giving him nightmares similar to the ones he'd always had at Hogwarts.

Yes, that was it.

Right?

Harry pushed the thoughts out of his mind, clearing it of everything but the snowy concrete under his feet, the icy rail under his fingers, the refreshing breeze against his bare chest, and the glorious stars filling his vision.

He stood there until he felt his muscles beginning to lock up. Only then did he turn around and go back inside.

The bed held no interest for him; Harry had the feeling that more nightmares awaited him there that night. Instead he went into the bathroom, turning on the shower, so that it was as hot as he could stand.

As Harry stood under the scalding water he let all of his fears accompany the water as it went down the drain. His sacrifice had been the right choice. He'd been required to let Voldemort kill him, if he hadn't the horcrux inside of him would still be alive – and so would Voldemort.

Sacrifice had been the only way to save the lives of those he loved and cared about.

Secure in this feeling, Harry put the dream behind him and began thinking up plans for dinner next Friday. Judging from his experience tonight, he couldn't dwell on the past, no matter which past it was, he had to look towards the future and whatever awaited him there.

He obviously couldn't cook something for the dinner. The most he could do in a kitchen was fry up some bacon and scramble some eggs. Anything more advanced than that was beyond his culinary skills, no matter what memories he used. Ron really was better at something.

Harry gave the tiled walls a wry smile at that thought, thinking of how often Ron had felt second-rate when compared with Harry and Hermione. Before the smile could fade from his face he had pushed the memory to the back of his mind as he remembered that he couldn't dwell on the past.

Nothing good had ever come from him dwelling in the past.

XXX

The week passed all too slowly for Harry. Even when he was at practice time seemed to crawl by. He was actually excited about dinner with Ron and Hermione. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this excited, and he didn't really want to.

When Friday arrived Harry rushed home from practice, took a quick shower, and proceeded to set the table. The food he'd ordered earlier that week was supposed to arrive at any moment.

Harry had ultimately decided to order food from a deli down the street from his flat. The doorbell rang and Harry rushed over to let in the deliveryman. The smells wafting up from the package made his stomach rumble.

Harry tipped the deliveryman and began moving the food onto serving dishes. There was a ham with a fresh cranberry sauce for the main course. Then there were two side dishes, a steamed vegetable medley and sautéed garlic potatoes.

He slipped them all into covered serving dishes and got a basket for the rolls he had picked up from the corner bakery. He'd also gotten a chocolate cake with little peppermints decorating it.

Harry had just finished setting up all the food when the doorbell rang again. He had a quick thought of thanks for the doorman for actually listening to him and letting them through. He'd had problems with them in the past refusing to let people in.

Harry chuckled at the memory of the doorman trying to refuse entry to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia when they popped in for a visit last summer. The doorman had probably learned a lesson about actually reading the notes he got on new visitors. Having Uncle Vernon yell at you for the first time was always a memorable moment. Harry had two of those memories.

Shaking his head to get rid of memories, Harry opened the door to reveal Ron and Hermione.

"Hello," he said cheerfully as he moved aside so that they could come inside.

"Hey there," Ron said casually before helping Hermione get her jacket, gloves, and hat off.

Once Hermione was untangled from her winter gear she threw Harry a happy smile. "Thanks for inviting us, most of our friends don't live in buildings with elevators, so we usually do the entertaining."

Harry grinned at Hermione's frankness, "It's my pleasure, I don't entertain nearly often enough. Or at least that's what my teammates say."

Ron and Hermione smiled back at him. Harry was happy to realize that there was still no awkwardness between the three of them. It was as if the three of them were destined to be friends, no matter where they were.

The evening was better than any of Harry's expectations. They never ran out of things to talk about. The only time things got a little awkward was when Ron brought up Harry's fame.

"I still don't get why you're so interested in us. You could be friends with anyone; you're one of the most famous soccer players in England." Ron said from around a mouthful of potato.

"Ron!" Hermione hissed. Obviously aware that wasn't the most tactful question, it was a little TOO frank.

"I'm interested in being friends with the two of you because you don't treat me like I'm famous or an object to be possessed. Only my family and teammates treat me like I'm human and I'm not really good friends with any of them, we have different interests." Harry stood up and went to a basket on a nearby table. He grabbed a bottle of sparkling water with a note attached to it. He brought it back to the table.

"This is the response I get from most people." Harry tore the note off the bottle and began reading.

My true love,

Harry you're amazing! I love you! I love the way your grass green eyes sparkle in the sun and the way your skin reflects the sunlight. Your hair makes me want to grip it as I make you mine. I am the only one for you. Want to know what I'd do with you? I'd-

Harry turned red and put the note down. "I usually don't read those anymore, but my agent still delivers them. They're all like that; I'm just an object to most people." Harry shrugged as he tossed the note and bottle back in the basket.

"That's rough," Ron said as Hermione's expression became rather soft.

"So you've had no real friends?" She asked a little hesitantly.

"My cousin and I were close up through high school, but our interests began to differ. He stopped playing sports after college and I made it my life's work. By the time I realized there was a gap in my life I was surrounded by people that could only see me as Harry Potter, the famous orphan soccer star." Harry casually shrugged, trying to keep back memories from the times before his memories converged.

Hermione smiled and said matter-of-factly, "Well, you'll just have to come to our anniversary party on March 18th!"

"Ya!" Ron said enthusiastically, "It's our five-year anniversary, so my parents are throwing us a party!"

Harry agreed and the rest of the evening was spent discussing either his upcoming match with Uruguay or Hermione's recent article on health benefits for city workers.

Harry didn't really care what they were discussing though; he was just happy living in the present and the future. It was too early to say anything to Ron and Hermione about his Magic Memories, they barely knew him, and they weren't likely to believe him if he started talking about wands, invisibility cloaks, flying broomsticks, and a magical school.

No, he'd just have to live without the past until it was time to reveal it to others. It was just too complex to deal with on his own.


	7. Private Compartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry meets up with the Weasley's again.

The game against Uruguay on March 1st arrived before Harry knew it. Now that he no longer dwelled on the past time seemed to fly by. His days were filled with practice and his evenings were filled with Ron and Hermione. Either he was with them or he was reading Hermione's articles. Her ideas were so logical that they even began to sway him if he was on the opposing side of the argument.

It had been after a team interview for the upcoming game that Harry came to a realization. If he dropped Hermione's name a couple of times people would begin to look up her articles more, which would help his friends, Ron wouldn't have to do as much overtime.

He had spent the time between the interview and the game thinking up ways to casually mention her name in his next interview.

The game went well, they won, 2-1. Harry was in a good mood as he left the locker room and saw Ron, Hermione, and Ginny waiting against the wall.

Ron and Hermione were covered in the team colors; even Hermione's blanket was white and red. Harry grinned at them and said, "Hey there," before turning his attention on Ginny.

She was even more beautiful than he remembered, it wasn't hard to set aside her other self and focus on the woman in front of him. Her hair had darkened a little bit, so it was more a deep red rather than bright red. It suited her magnificently.

She was wearing boots, jeans, and a worn jacket. Around her neck was a high-end camera and hanging at her side was a satchel bag that looked to contain notepads.

Her bright brown eyes met Harry's emerald green ones and he lost all of his breath. She was amazing.

"Great game, Harry!" Ron said enthusiastically.

Hermione seemed to be more aware of the sparks flying between Ginny and Harry than Ron did. She stepped in, metaphorically speaking, and gave introductions, "Harry, this is Ron's little sister, Ginny Weasley. Ginny, this is our friend, Harry Potter."

Harry felt nervous, he wanted to hug and kiss her, but he knew that wasn't appropriate. She didn't know they had dated in another world, another set of memories.

Ginny seemed to figure out what to do first, she smiled and stuck her hand out, "Nice to meet you."

Harry grinned back at her as he shook her hand, "You too."

The instant their hands touched, sparks seemed to fly, even Ron noticed it this time. His eyes narrowed in a slight scowl that was only chased away when Hermione reached over and touched his thigh. He looked down to see her smiling up at him. At that moment he knew, that if he had to watch his sister fall in love with someone, Harry was probably one of the better choices.

XXX

Over the two and a half weeks leading up to Ron and Hermione's anniversary party Harry became intimately acquainted with Ginny.

After the game the four of them had gone to a party thrown by one of his teammates. Afterwards Harry had somehow ended up taking Ginny home. As he dropped her off she asked him if he wanted to get dinner some time. He'd been unable to refuse, and so he'd gone home alone, with her phone number clenched in his fist.

They had their first date the next night.

Their second date was only two nights later.

By the day of the Anniversary Party they realized their relationship probably was here to stay. There was just something there that felt permanent, as if they were designed to be together.

The two of them took the train to Ottery St. Mary on the morning of the party together. Ron and Hermione had gone down the night before, they didn't have work or practice, since Ron had taken the 17th, 18th, and 19th off of work and Hermione made sure she had no deadlines around that time.

Just as they were boarding the train Harry heard a semi-familiar voice yell out, "Ginny! You're on this train too?"

Harry and Ginny turned to see Fred and George walking up, with duffle bags slung over their shoulders. Ginny's eyes narrowed, "You can't fool me, you knew I was on this train. Mum told you last night, didn't she?"

The twins shrugged and gave their sister matching grins.

"Well, if that was true-"

"-would we tell you?"

"No," Ginny grumbled before making introductions. "Harry, this is Fred and George. They're the ones that own the joke shop in Notting Hill."

"Nice to meet you," Harry said pleasantly as he tried to keep a straight face. He'd forgotten how entertaining the twins were. Granted, he'd forgotten on purpose, just like he'd forgotten everything else. Well, as close to forgetting as one could get when he was reminded everytime he looked in the mirror and saw the scar on his forehead.

"Good to meet you too, mate." Fred said as he pushed past them and onto the train.

George looked him up and down before following his twin. As he past Harry he commented, "You're much bigger on TV."

Ginny started to flare up at this comment, but Harry's chuckle stopped her. He was too glad to see Fred alive that he didn't mind them poking fun at him. He was a stranger dating their only sister after all.

The four of them got a private compartment, having all paid for first class tickets. Harry had paid for Ginny's upgrade himself because he couldn't ride in the regular coaches, it always lead to awkward conversations and sometimes scary encounters.

Fred and George had gotten first class tickets just because they could. Their business was just as successful as it had been in Harry's Magic Memories.

At the thought of his Magic Memories Harry did a little start and got a conversation started about what Ginny had been working on the day before. She'd been interviewing some boxers for an article she had to finish by Monday.

Before he knew it the train was pulling into the station at Ottery St. Mary. Harry felt as if the very air was humming with excitement. He couldn't wait to spend the day with the Weasleys.

Mr. Weasley was waiting for them with a rather familiar looking Ford Anglia.

After greetings and introductions the five of them were packed into the car, it was so tight that Ginny was almost on Harry's lap. He didn't mind too much though, in fact, that's why he insisted on giving the front seat to one of the twins.

Mr. Weasley drove them through town and then down some narrow dirt roads to an old farmhouse with a huge barn. There was a hallway connecting the barn and the farmhouse.

"There's the Burrow," Ginny said affectingly in Harry's ear. "It's been in my father's family for generations, but the barn wasn't finished and attached to the main house until recently."

"It looks amazing," Harry commented. The Burrow was so different from his Aunt and Uncle's neat, but caring, house or his stylish, but empty, flat.

The Burrow seemed to practically glow from all the love and memories that had been poured into it. If there had been magic here Harry would've expected the house to be as protected as Hogwarts.

"It is amazing," Ginny said proudly as she clambered out of the car after Harry. "When Mum got pregnant with Percy they realized the house wasn't big enough, so they began work on the barn and the corridor. By the time he was a year old it was completed. Father got all of his Dungeon and Dragons buddies to help him. He may be good at a fantasy game, but he's also good with tools."

"Dungeons and Dragons?" Harry asked in shock, trying to fight images of Mr. Weasley declaring that his vacuum wielding Electrician would be throwing sparkplugs at a dragon.

"Yeah, he's been obsessed with the game since it came out in the early eighties. He has a group of about eight people that play every Friday night. I think that's why Fred and George sell magic tricks at their joke shop." Ginny said with a sigh as they grabbed their bags and trooped inside.

Harry thought on it some as they went inside. It really did make sense that Mr. Weasley was a fan of magic in this world and good with basic tools, which was the exact reverse of what he had been in Harry's Magic Memories after all.

Harry mentally kicked himself for bringing up the past. If he dwelt on it too much the nightmares would return.

Mrs. Weasley greet them at the door, she was just as cheerful as before. Harry adored her treatment of him in a way. She never considered him to be more special than any of her own children, which made him comfortable.

He ended up with a small room to himself in the converted barn. It was a simple room, decorated with a rustic farmhouse charm.

Harry felt instantly at home.

The party that evening was one of the best of Harry's life. No matter what past he looked at. There was more food than they could ever eat. The only downfall was that Harry met all sorts of people that made him want to dwell in the past.

There were the Weasleys' neighbors – the Lovegoods and the Diggorys. Harry got to listen to an interesting conversation between Percy and Luna. She kept telling him that garden gnomes were real, he said that was stupid. The way she described them was scarily accurate, it made Harry wonder if the imaginary creatures she mentioned in his Magic Memories were real in some other world.

This thought made him a tad nervous, which made him push the memories further back; he didn't want them to ruin his fun.

Harry received a happy shock when he saw Tonks and Lupin. Lupin had been Hermione's favorite professor and mentor during college. It had been the two of them, along with Ron, that had kept Hermione going after her mugging. It did sadden Harry a little when he realized that this Lupin hadn't known his father at all.

Tonks' hair was a hot pink, but Harry could only assume that was from a bottle, not from magic.

The evening finally came to a close with Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione sitting around the kitchen table drinking beers and laughing about Percy blowing up at Luna when she told him that he was actually part devil, which was why he had the red hair.

As they continued to talk Harry slipped his hand into Ginny's under the table. She gave his hand a light squeeze when he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

Harry realized at that moment that the past didn't really matter, only the present, which would lead to the future. And this present didn't have Voldemort, Hogwarts, wands, horcruxes, hallows, or magic. It only contained family, friends, soccer, and Ginny.

Maybe he'd worry about the past later, once the present was perfect.


	8. A Chance Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry does some thinking and ends up bumping into an old friend.

Harry continued to live in the moment as time marched on.

He felt as if he was living in a dream of pure happiness. Everytime he considered looking at the past and telling his friends about the Magic Memories he decided not to. He was too afraid of waking from the dream and ruining the happiness he had finally found.

Harry watched as Hermione's articles slowly grew in readership once he dropped her name a few time in interviews.

She got an article picked up by the New York Times on terrorist protection policies the same week that Harry decided to pop the question to Ginny.

He'd thought on it for quite a while. It wasn't because he didn't know if he should ask her or not, it was more because he wasn't sure how to ask her.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had come up to London for some shopping and a quick visit when he asked them how they thought he should do.

Uncle Vernon said gruffly, "Ask her however you want. If she wants to marry you, she will, no matter how you ask her."

"He is right you know," Aunt Petunia added. "Just ask her however you want. If she loves you she won't care. By the way, have you gotten a ring yet?"

Harry shook his head, "No, I wanted to figure out how I'd propose before I got the ring."

"Then you should pay a visit to your parent's safety deposit box. You might find something useful inside." Aunt Petunia said with a small smile on her face.

Harry frowned at her, "They had a safety deposit box?"

Aunt Petunia looked shocked. "Didn't you know?"

Harry just shook his head.

"Interesting, well, go visit your solicitor tomorrow. You are still using the same solicitor that handled your trust fund?" Harry nodded, "Good, I believe he has the key. I gave him the rings to put in there not long after Vernon and I took you in. They were your parents' wedding and engagement rings." Aunt Petunia said before taking a sip of the tea Harry had made for her.

The very next day Harry stopped by his solicitor's office to pick up the key and then he went immediately to the bank.

A short, grumpy looking man with a hooked nose helped Harry get his box and assigned him a private room to look at it.

When he was alone in the room he carefully opened the box, half afraid what he would see inside. Harry felt memories about a vault far under the city try and surface, but he hastily pushed them back – refusing to look at the past yet.

Inside the box were a couple of envelopes. Opening the top one, Harry found three platinum rings, one with a beautiful opal in the center of it. The rings had a rather ancient feel to them, as if they had been around for generations. Harry slipped the masculine band on his left ring finger and found it to be a perfect fit.

Harry and his father had the same ring size.

The thought made Harry feel even closer to his parents. He carefully slipped the rings back in the envelope and put it in his inner coat pocket.

Picking up the next envelope he found several pictures inside. Flipping through them he found old black and white or sepia pictures of people he could only assume to be his grandparents and great-grandparents. They brought a smile to his face as he stared at a young man in an old suit with unruly black hair next to a blonde woman in a puffy sleeved, floor length dress.

Just seeing these photos made him feel more connected with his family than he ever had before. Harry felt as if he could spend hours staring at the photos. He didn't have time for that yet though, he had a dinner date with Ginny in a couple hours and he still had to pick up some flowers.

Harry slipped the pictures back in the envelope and put them in his pocket before he lifted out the last envelope.

Inside were several pieces of paper. Harry fell into shock as he read what was written on them. They were love letters – from Severus Snape to Lily Evans. The last letter was what really shocked Harry.

Lily,

I know we haven't talked in over a year, but I just heard about your engagement from Sirius Black. He seemed quite proud that his friend had finally caught you. I know you never loved me the way I loved you and this isn't a letter asking you to reconsider your engagement – rather, it's a letter to show you my support.

No matter what happens to you, please know that I'll always be there for you. You will always be my first and truest friend. I'm sorry we've grown apart in recent years, the blame for that can only be placed on me. I just hope you'll forgive me for the comments I made last year, I've always hated myself for saying them.

Good luck in your future endeavors and, please, forgive me.

Love,

Severus

Harry had to read the letter several times to believe it. He couldn't believe that Snape had been so blunt about his feelings to his mother. What was even harder to believe was that his mother must've felt something in return. Obviously these letters had meant enough to his mother to save them.

Harry put the letters back in the envelope and slipped it into his pocket with the other envelopes before closing the box and leaving the room. He waved to the hook-nosed man as he walked out the door, to let the man know that he was done.

He spent the next hour just walking around the crowded city streets, trying to sort through his feelings on the letters and the memories of the past they tried to resurrect.

When Harry finally dragged himself out of his thoughts he found himself not too far away from Russell Square, in front of the Great Osmond Street Hospital. Harry stared at the building, something nagging the back of his mind, wasn't this the hospital he was at while being treated for the burns he got in the fire?

Harry thought so, but he wasn't sure, Aunt Petunia had only mentioned it a few times. Harry wasn't sure why his feet had taken him here, so he just shrugged and was about to leave when he saw a very unforgettable face came through the doorway.

It was Snape.

Snape was a few feet away when he finally noticed Harry.

"James?" He asked with a look of shock on his face.

Harry mutely shook his head, unsure of what he should say.

Snape gave his head a little shake as a wry smile twisted his lips. "Of course not, James has been dead for a quarter of a century. You're Harry aren't you?"

Harry nodded, still unsure of what to say.

Snape's eyes narrowed, "You here for a reason? Or are you just trying to waste my time?"

Harry shrugged, "Neither, I just ended up here after finding some letters in my parent's safety deposit box."

Snape had been about to walk off, but now he froze, fixing Harry with his black, piercing gaze. "Letters?"

Harry pulled the envelope out of his pocket, "You've loved her ever since you saw her playing with Aunt Petunia through the bushes, haven't you?"

Snape's eyes narrowed again, "How'd you know that? That's nowhere in any of those letters."

Harry couldn't help it, of all the people he'd known in both lives, he felt the need to tell Snape about his Magic Memories. Was that because he knew Snape would do nothing to harm Lily's son? Or was it because he knew Snape had been one of the lost boys? One who had found Hogwarts to be more of a home than where their family lived.

Whatever the reason, Harry finally felt alright with the idea of telling someone about it. After all, if he had trusted Snape during his fifth year at Hogwarts than Sirius would be alive in his Magic Memories. Harry decided, right there, without a doubt, that he would tell Snape. He was one of the smartest men he knew after all.

"I'll tell you, if you can find us somewhere quiet, where I won't get overrun with fans or nosy reporters." Harry said, his voice calmer than he felt.

Somehow, Snape's eyes narrowed even more. "Follow me, I live around the corner."

Harry followed Snape around the corner and down a side street to a nice little town house on a rather empty street. Harry followed Snape inside to an immaculate entryway.

They took a seat in the parlor, Snape's piercing gaze fixed on Harry. Slowly, but surely, Harry began explaining everything. He started with waking up that day in May with no clue of where he was, and then moved backwards. He told Snape everything, even about their deaths.

To his credit, Snape didn't say a word the entire time. When Harry was finally done he slumped in his seat and watched Snape think. It was rather fascinating to see emotions move through the normally empty eyes.

"So I don't get her there either, do I?" Snape finally asked in a very soft, sad tone.

"Yeah, you called her a mudblood." Harry said.

"And what does that equate to in this world?" Snape asked – a pained expression on his face.

Harry winced, "Any racist, derogatory term. Just pick one."

"Hmm, yes, I can see why she wouldn't have liked that. I only lost her here because I insulted her growing friendship with Black and Potter – among a few other minor things. We were young and stupid."

"So where is Sirius?" Harry asked, hope in his voice. Now that he had decided to look at the past he wanted to find where everyone was. He'd love to invite Sirius to his wedding.

Snape sighed and looked down at the floor, "Your godfather died from burns and smoke inhalation he acquired while pulling you out of the fire. You barely made it through yourself. You had a few second-degree burns, but the smoke in your lungs almost killed you."

Harry felt tears sting his eyes, Sirius was dead, and had been for years. Trying to not cry in front of Snape he latched onto something Snape said. "How do you know how bad my burns and smoke inhalation was?"

"Because, I was a volunteer here while I worked on my degree. I was volunteering in the emergency room when they brought you in." Snape closed his eyes in pain, "I learned soon after you were alive that Lily had died. I was determined to do everything I could to save her child." Snape pointed to the scar on Harry's forehead. "They were so busy trying to save your lungs that I was left to pull the necklace off your forehead and clean the wound."

Harry couldn't imagine functioning normally if he learned that Ginny had died. Just the thought of her dying tore him up inside. "Snape, I don't think I've ever told you, in either life, but, you're the bravest man I know."

Snape's lips twisted into another wry smile, "Your mother always said things like that to me. It was because of her that I've become what I am now. She came into my life like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. If it hadn't been for her I'd be as worthless as my father. Amazing how she affected me so much in both worlds."

"Then you believe me?" Harry asked, surprise coursing through him. He'd thought that Snape would believe him eventually, but thought it would take a lot more persuasion.

"Yes, there's too much evidence to support it. Anyway, it's a growing theory in science that alternate dimensions exist. Some sort of magic in your original world must have transferred you to this one. Maybe it was the power of Lily's love."

Harry shrugged uncertainly, he'd already considered that possibility, but maybe Snape would realize something that Harry hadn't.

He didn't stay much longer after that. His date with Ginny was really soon.

Harry took his leave of Snape after the two of them exchanged email addresses and phone numbers. Snape promised to give Harry's Magic Memories some thought, to see if he could figure out how Harry had gotten there, and why.

Somehow, as Harry took a taxi back to his flat, he found himself even happier than before. By sharing his Magic Memories, instead of bottling them up and locking them away, Harry had found more peace then he had expected.

As he practically floated up to his flat he decided that he would ask Ginny that very night. He had the ring and his aunt and uncle were right, what did the proposal matter as long as he asked with all the love in his heart?


	9. Freezing from Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry gets married!

Harry took Ginny for a romantic little dinner at a small café on the Thames. They'd been their several times before, so she didn't suspect anything unusual.

After dinner they took their customary walk down the Thames and across the millennium bridge to St. Paul's Cathedral. The two of them would then go inside and just sit in the chairs and look up at the artwork while holding hands. It was a magical place.

Tonight was a little different though. Harry stopped Ginny halfway across the millennium bridge to watch a boat passing underneath them. The two of them stood there in silence as the sun slowly dipped lower, until it's rays hit Ginny's hair and made it go up in flames.

This was the moment, Harry decided. He took Ginny's hand in his and pulled her to face him as he went down on one knee. Ginny's eyes lit up like her hair when he pulled the ring out of his pocket and offered it to her.

"Yes!" Ginny squealed as she threw herself into his arms.

Harry lost his balance and fell backwards as passersby stopped to watch them. Somehow, Harry managed to slip the ring on Ginny's finger as they tried to untangle themselves.

A few minutes later they were on their way again. Harry's arm was around Ginny's waist and the two of them looked like they were walking on clouds. They were completely oblivious to everyone around them.

Everyone, even Ron, was happy to hear about the engagement. Hermione and Ron threw them an engagement party. Harry got congratulations from all of his teammates and there were cries of rage throughout the country when the news announced their engagement. Harry's daily supply of love letters from fangirls turned into hate letters.

They usually weren't about him though, instead, they were letters ripping Ginny apart. They called her all sorts of nasty things; Harry destroyed these letters upon receiving them, he didn't want Ginny to see them. Eventually his agent stopped sending them on.

Ginny decided on the first Saturday in May. This meant only about a six month engagement, but they didn't mind, they didn't want to wait any longer than they had to.

Over the next six months Harry heard from Snape several times. He proposed different theories and Harry recounted more of his memories, both magical and muggle. Nothing seemed to fit though. They began talking so often that Snape actually got an invitation to the wedding. Surprisingly, he accepted it.

About a month before the wedding the lease on Ginny's flat was up so she moved in with Harry, much to her mother's shock and annoyance. This really didn't affect them much though, by this time Aunt Petunia and Mrs. Weasley were impossible to deal with since they had taken over the wedding plans. Everyone was doing their best to just stay away from them.

It got so bad that Mr. Weasley went to visit Charlie down in Africa for awhile. The two of them came back just a couple of days before the wedding.

Luna ended up being Ginny's maid of honor, with Hermione as her single bridesmaid. From the tales he heard, Harry learned that Luna threw crazy hen parties. Once he heard about the mime stripper, he didn't want to hear any more. He really, really didn't. Hermione threw her a beautiful bridal shower at a nice little café near her new flat with Ron. They'd moved once Hermione started getting a steady, dependable income from her articles.

Harry's best man was Ron, with Dudley as his only groomsmen. The two of them threw him a stag party that involved camping out at a pub in London for several hours. Harry enjoyed just relaxing and drinking a few beers with his friends and teammates.

Before he knew it the wedding had arrived. They were holding it in the same small church that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had been married at in Ottery St. Mary.

Harry was spending the night before the wedding at a small bed and breakfast in town with his family and some of the wedding guests. Ginny was at her parent's place with her family. He went to bed the night before the wedding with a feeling of excitement coursing through his veins. It reminded him of his feelings on the night of August 31st during the eleventh year of his Magic Memories.

Unlike the last time, this time he dreamed.

He was sitting on a park bench with Ginny; they were watching the stars together when she shivered. So he took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders, but it fell off. So he put it on her again, but it fell off again. It did this everytime, and she kept shivering more and more. He tried hugging her, but it didn't work, his hands went right through her. Panic rose in his chest as he watched her skin turn blue as she slowly froze to death while he got warmer and warmer - his chest felt like it was on fire. It was as if he was sucking the very heat out of her.

Just before she took her last breath he woke up, yelling her name.

Harry's hand automatically moved to the other side of the bed, where Ginny normally lay, but she wasn't there. Panic raced through his chest and it took him a moment to remember that she was at her parents.

Taking a deep breath Harry stumbled out of bed as the sun began peeking around the curtains and down the hall to the bathroom. Splashing warm water on his face he tried to erase the memory of Ginny freezing to death in his arms.

There was a knock on the doorframe. Harry looked over to see Snape standing there. "Another nightmare involving your Magic Memories?"

Harry shook his head as he turned the water off. "No, it was a dream about Ginny freezing to death in my arms, whatever I did, I couldn't warm her up. Despite the fact that I was burning up, there was a literal fire in my chest, yet I just couldn't keep her warm."

Snape frowned, "Interesting, now, do you need the bathroom?" Harry shook his head, "Good, can you please leave so I can use it? Honestly, this place needs a bathroom in every room."

Harry rolled his eyes at this comment as he left the bathroom. He wandered down the hall to his room and spent the next couple of hours doing some exercises while he tried to wipe the dream from his memory.

A little past noon he was finally ready, in mind and body. He was showered and wearing a tuxedo with an emerald green vest and the dream was firmly locked up in the same place he used to keep all of his memories. He was waiting with Ron and Dudley in a small room off the chapel for their moment to enter the chapel.

Butterflies were fluttering around in his stomach as he kept checking the clock on the wall. Trying to distract himself, Harry glanced over at his friend and cousin. Dudley was sitting in a chair, calmly reading a magazine while he waited and Ron was pacing back and forth - obviously nervous about watching his only sister get married. All three of them were waiting for the background music to change so that they could enter.

The door opened and all three young men looked over, not expecting anyone. To their surprise, it was Snape.

"Snape, why are you here?" Harry asked in confusion.

"I think I figured it out." He grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him over to a corner.

"Can't it wait until after the wedding?" Harry asked, annoyance in his tone, he was more worried about his wedding than his Magic Memories at the moment.

"No, not really," Snape took a deep breath and was about to continue when the music changed.

"Harry! We've got to go." Ron called as he smoothed his hair nervously.

"Just tell me afterwards." Harry said, pulling away from Snape as Dudley put down his magazine and straightened his tie.

"No, Harry, I have to tell you now." Snape said in a rushed voice.

"Harry! Come on!" Ron said as he grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him towards the door to the chapel.

Snape reached out and grabbed Harry's arm quickly, "Harry, just tell me, do you have your necklace on?"

Now Harry was confused, "Of course, I never take it off."

Snape breathed a sigh of relief as he let go of Harry's arm. "Good, I'll tell you afterwards then, as long as you keep the necklace on you should be fine, you've been fine for years after all." He turned sharply and left the room.

Harry just had a second to straighten his coat before he was walking out into the chapel, Ron and Dudley right behind him.

The chapel was beautifully decorated with fresh flowers, but Harry saw none of it. He was focused on the door at the end of the aisle, waiting for Ginny to enter. By the time he reached the alter he had already put Snape's words out of his mind. Today was his wedding day; he wasn't going to worry about his Magic Memories. That could wait until tomorrow, they'd waited for years already.

The music changed and the doors opened to show Hermione. She looked gorgeous in an emerald green gown as she rolled down the aisle, a happy smile on her face. When she reached the alter Dudley helped her position her chair properly.

Then came Luna, she floated down the aisle in her normal dreamlike state. Harry heard Ron chuckle slightly as he escorted Luna to her spot next to Hermione.

Then the music changed yet again as the doors opened wide and Ginny stepped through with Mr. Weasley on her arm.

Harry forgot to breathe until Ron poked him in the back and whispered, "You better not pass out from lack of oxygen."

Ginny looked amazing in some lacy, frothy concoction. Harry didn't notice anything else about the dress; his entire focus was on her face. She looked absolutely radiant. He couldn't believe he was so lucky.

Before he knew it Mr. Weasley had kissed her cheeks and taken his seat. Harry was left with Ginny as the priest began to speak. Harry remembered saying "I do" in a clear, strong voice. Though he'd never remember how he managed that.

Then came the rings, Harry took the ring from Ron and slipped it on Ginny's finger, next to the opal ring. Then Ginny slipped the other ring on his finger.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Harry was leaning forwards, about to do just that, when the doors to the chapel slammed open and a crazy woman ran down the aisle, a gun in her hand, as she screamed, "You bitch! He's MINE!"

Time slowed down.

Harry caught a glimpse of the woman's face as she got closer and realized that he recognized her. It was Romilda Vane.

Then there was a load CRACK, followed quickly by another, as she raised the gun and fired it twice at Ginny, all in one smooth motion.

Harry pulled Ginny out of the way, but in doing so he slipped.

He jerked sharply as the bullets hit his body.

He fell to the ground as he heard screams and shouts all around him.

His vision began to blur as Ginny's face appeared in front of him. She was crying and saying something, but he couldn't quite make it out.

Harry tried to reach out, he wanted to comfort her, to let her know that he was going to be alright, but his mouth wouldn't work.

The last thing he saw before his fuzzy vision disappeared completely was Ron pulling Ginny into his arms as Snape took her place.

And then everything was gone, just like it had been eleven years previously.


	10. A New Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wakes up, again.

He lay facedown, listening to the silence. He was perfectly alone. Nobody was watching. Nobody else was there. He was not perfectly sure that he was there himself.

A long time later, or maybe no time at all, it came to him that he must exist, must be more than disembodied thought, because he was lying, definitely lying, on some surface. Therefore he had a sense of touch, and the thing against which he lay existed too.

Almost as soon as he had reached this conclusion, Harry became conscious that he wasn't really alone. Someone not too far away was saying his name.

They were saying his name quite loudly actually.

Cracking one eye open, he blearily saw a familiar hand with a pearl ring on it waving in front of his face. Confused, he flopped onto his back and looked up at the person connected to the hand. It was Ginny, and she looked rather annoyed.

"C'mon Harry! It's time to get up! Our parents are going to be here in an hour and I should be making lunch, not getting you up!" She sounded horribly annoyed.

Harry wasn't quite sure what was going on. The last thing he remembered was –

Harry jerked upright and felt all over his chest – there were no bullet holes or scars. Harry turned and actually looked at Ginny. It was then that he realized she wasn't the same Ginny he had gotten married to a little bit ago.

This Ginny had extremely short hair and a very visible pregnant belly. Harry felt panic wash over him. How was she pregnant? What had happened? Was he now in a different time with missing memories, instead of a different world?

"Um, Ginny, what's the date?" Harry asked nervously as he slowly climbed out of bed.

Ginny backed up to give him room as she rolled her eyes, "Honestly Harry, how can you never remember our anniversary? It's May 3rd, 2009 of course. I don't know how you don't remember that, we've been married for seven years. You'd think that would be enough time. I wish you'd get another shift, this late night stuff is ruining you." She said all of this as she walked out of the room in what could only be called a waddling stomp.

As Harry looked around the bedroom he heard her slamming and banging pans in the kitchen. Or at least he assumed it was the kitchen, he had no idea where he was.

The bedroom was rather small and cramped. There was a single window between his side of the bed and the wall. Glancing out of it, Harry saw a narrow little side street that looked a lot like the one Ron and Hermione had first lived in – or at least the Ron and Hermione in his Muggle Memories.

Nervously, Harry approached the dresser, lying on it were a couple of pictures. One was of Ginny and her entire family. Then there was a wedding picture. It showed him and Ginny standing in front of the church in Ottery St. Mary. They weren't wearing the same dress and tuxedo that he had seen before, these outfits were much simpler. Then there was another picture, one of Harry in a police uniform, with his parents on either side of him.

Harry gasped in shock as Ginny's comment about "our parents" hit him. His parents were alive? Was he in another world? Like he had been before? The thought made Harry want to bang his head against a wall. Why was this happening to him?

He was in another world? That couldn't be right, how had he gotten here? There had been no magic involved when he had been gunned down by Romilda Vane.

The memory of the bullets hitting him flashed through Harry's mind and he gasped in pain as he looked in the mirror over the dresser at his unscarred chest. Despite the lack of scars he could still feel them hitting his body.

Speaking of scars…

Harry lifted up his bangs and looked in the mirror. Yes, there was still a lightning bolt there, but it was very faint. To tell the truth, it looked more like a birthmark than a scar.

Ginny stuck her head in the door, "Well? Aren't you going to go shower and get ready? Time's a wasting."

"Ya," Harry said as he went through the only other door in the bedroom. Inside was a small bathroom, the shower was so small that he barely fit into it. How did people live like this?

Harry took a quick shower, while trying to figure out what he'd have to touch or do to get his memories for this world. He obviously knew nothing about being a police officer, so he'd need to find those memories if he wanted to fit in.

As Harry toweled himself off he realized that the panic he had felt last time wasn't here now. Was that because he was more accepting of being thrust into a new world? Or was it because he knew that he didn't leave anyone in danger? Was it maybe because he was almost twenty-nine, not seventeen?

Whatever the reason, Harry didn't feel confused and lost this time. Whatever this world threw at him, he'd figure it out.

Once he obtained the memories for this world he'd set about finding Snape. He'd figured out why Harry had moved worlds in the last world, he could find it in this one also. Why hadn't waited to marry Ginny long enough to hear Snape's finally theory? Harry mentally kicked himself as he ran a comb quickly through his wet hair.

Once he was done in the bathroom he wandered back into the bedroom in search of clothes. He got dressed and wandered down the hallway, he found Ginny in an outdated kitchen. It still had those old, avocado colored appliances.

She gave him a quick look as she continued cooking, "Aren't you going to put on the watch your parents gave you?"

"Oh, yeah," Harry said rather stupidly before heading back to the bedroom.

As he left he saw Ginny give a quick shake of her head in a rather Mrs. Weasley like fashion. How come he'd never seen her do that in his Muggle Memories? Upon thinking this Harry realized that referring to the last world as Muggle Memories probably wouldn't be the best idea. He should probably label them his Soccer Memories or something. Then these memories, whatever they were, could be his Police Memories.

Shaking his own head at the number of memories he'd be carrying around in his head once he found these memories, Harry grabbed the beaten up watch he'd missed the last time he was looking at the dresser. Seeing the watch reminded him of the lightning necklace and how he hadn't seen it until it was pointed out to him. Did that mean it hadn't existed before it had been pointed out? The thought bothered him.

Bracing himself, Harry reached over and grabbed the watch. No memories flooded his brain. Disappointed, Harry slipped the watch on his wrist and fastened it.

As soon as it clicked the memories came flooding into his consciousness.

He saw himself being taught how to ride a bike by his father. Then he was watching his parents slow dance in front of the fire as Christmas music played from the radio and a Christmas tree sparkled nearby.

Then he was older, being taught how to drive by his father, being told by his mother to quiet down while playing video games with Ron late into the night.

Then he was signing up for the police academy with Ron, going on his first date with Ginny, getting Ron to forgive him for dating his sister.

Tears almost sneaked out as he proposed to Ginny again, this time on top of St. Paul's Cathedral, the whole city beneath them.

A tear did sneak out as he watched himself once again get married to Ginny, this time there was no crazy shooter.

Then Ginny was sitting him down, telling him that she was finally pregnant, he felt amazement and happiness wash over him. Then there had been the shouts and screams of joy when they told their parents.

There were so many other memories, little things, like finding an old pearl ring at an estate sale and using that for an engagement ring or picking out their first apartment.

They all came at Harry so fast that he fell to the floor, trying to soak everything in.

He'd forgotten how unnerving and overwhelming it was to take another set of parallel memories into his head.

Harry closed his eyes and bit his lip, trying to stop a scream, as he tried to organize seventy-three years worth of memories. He couldn't let Ginny know, he couldn't let her know, she had the baby to worry about.

Harry tried to fight the blackness that threatened to overwhelm him, but it didn't work, his brain needed peace and quiet to digest the memories.

Harry's last thought as the blackness and memories overtook him was: why is this happening to me again?


	11. An Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry rekindles a spark.

"Harry? Harry, come on! Wake up!"

Ginny's voice washed over him, lighting up the darkness he had fallen into. Before he opened his eyes he felt her push something into his mouth. As soon as it touched his tongue he tasted sugar.

A glucose tablet, she must think that his blood sugar had dropped too low.

Now that he had the Police Memories he knew the other major difference in this world, he was a Type 1 Diabetic.

As the tablet dissolved Harry finally found the strength to open his eyes. Ginny's face, full of worry, was hovering over his. As soon as she saw his eyes open she smiled and visibly relaxed.

"Thank God you're alright. They're overworking you, aren't they? You aren't getting enough time to eat during your shift, are you? Do I need to call Black again?"

Harry slowly sat up as he shook his head gently, he had a raging headache. "No, don't call him. I forgot to eat last night; I was trying to get your anniversary gift ready." This was the truth, now that he had the Police Memories he knew everything, including the fact that he'd rushed across London to pick up a painting from Dean Thomas. It was hidden under the bed now, still wrapped in brown paper.

"Harry…" Ginny shook her head as she gave him a small glare, "what's the use of a gift if I lose you in the process. Please, take care of yourself."

"Ginny, it's alright. I've been diabetic for seven years now. I know how to take care of myself." Harry argued as he carefully stood up, making sure to hold onto the dresser in case his legs gave out.

"Hmph, if that's true than you wouldn't collapse from low blood sugar. Honestly, it's like you don't even care about your health." Despite the harsh words, her tone was gentle as she helped him down the hall to the parlor. She helped him onto the couch and then told him to wait while she brought him some food.

While he waited he examined the watch more closely. On one side of it was a blue piece of metal that was bolted onto the watch. It listed him as diabetic and insulin reliant. No wonder Ginny had reminded him to go put it on.

That little blue piece of metal had saved his life three years earlier, when he'd collapsed on the Underground.

A thought crossed his mind: the watch had sort of saved his life in this world, just like the necklace had in his Soccer Memories. Was that important?

Harry was interrupted from his musings by Ginny bringing him a ham and cheese sandwich as they heard a knock on the door.

A moment later his parents walked through the doorway, with the Weasleys right behind them.

It was all Harry could do not to leap off the couch and hug them. Tears still sprang to his eyes at the sight of them alive and across the room from him. Trying to hide this, he took a big bite of his sandwich.

He never really remembered the next hour very well. Just random images of his father laughing at some joke Mr. Weasley made or his mother giving him a loving smile as she passed him a platter of sandwiches. There was another image of his mother and Mrs. Weasley planning with Ginny about how to decorate the baby room.

Sure, he had memories of growing up with his parents, but it wasn't the same as seeing them now, right here in front of him. Memories were dull and muted compared to the now.

"Harry, have you gotten any more news on that promotion?" His father asked him after the plates had been cleaned up and coffee poured.

"Well, Ron and I put our papers in, but it's not looking good. Black seems loath to part with us, I think he might not give a good recommendation, just so he doesn't lose us." Harry said quite honestly, pulling up memories of a meeting from two nights ago.

His father growled, "If Sirius does that I'm going to have some words with him."

His mother reached over and put a gentle hand on his arm, "James, Harry's grown; he doesn't need you to fight his battles for him."

Harry had to repress a grin as his father scowled and leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. Seeing his father angry about not being able to help him – it was amazing.

"Don't worry James; Sirius will eventually have to let them move up the ranks. He knows that Harry will need a larger income with a little one on the way." Mr. Weasley said optimistically.

Ginny and Harry shared a look, her father was much too willing to see the world through rose-tinted glasses.

The conversation moved on to talk about the incoming baby. Harry was having trouble believing that he was going to be a father in three months. Despite the memories of living with Ginny for eight years now and being married to her for seven, it still felt like he had just married her yesterday.

Which, in a way, he had.

Once their parents were gone Ginny went off to shower and change. All Harry had told her was that they were going somewhere nice. Harry grinned at the elaborate plan in his Police Memories. He really surprised himself sometimes.

The two of them left the apartment, but when they reached the street Harry told Ginny that he left his diabetic bag upstairs. Leaving her behind, he raced upstairs, pulled the painting out, set it on a chair so that she'd see it as soon as she walked in, grabbed his bag, and was back on the street in under three minutes.

Ginny eyed him suspiciously for a moment before taking his hand. As the two of them walked down the street to the bus station Harry couldn't help but feel pure joy running through him. Despite waking up in another world, stuffing seventy-three years of memories into his brain, and then finding out he ws diabetic, it had been a wonderful day.

Finding out he was going to be a father soon, spending an afternoon with his parents, and now this – a wonderful date with the woman he loved – had definitely trumped all of the bad things.

The two of them ate dinner at the café on the river that he had so enjoyed in his Soccer Memories. Apparently he had enjoyed it in his Police Memories also. The only difference this time was when he had to check his blood sugar before hand and give himself insulin before he ate. Other than that, it was perfect and wonderful.

Afterwards, when they were walking back to the bus spot, Harry acted on pure instinct. He pulled Ginny into the darkened doorway of a shop and began kissing her senseless. She let out a squeak of surprise before wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him as good as she got.

They hadn't done this for years in his Police Memories.

As he had looked over the Police Memories he had realized something, their relationship here had no passion. Harry wanted to fix that tonight, and this was probably the best way.

When they finally came up for air Ginny gave him a curious look, "You've been different today. Why?"

Carefully, Harry gave a light chuckle, "Can't a man kiss his wife without raising suspicion?" When she opened her mouth to answer he swooped in and kissed her again. She let out a moan as his hands began exploring her body.

When they broke apart again there was only one thing on Harry's mind and Ginny seemed to be thinking the same thing. "I think we need to get home, now."

Harry didn't say a word he just took her hand and began walking to the bus stop as fast as he thought she could handle.

In his opinion, it took much too long to reach their apartment. Just for fun, and because she was walking too slowly for his liking, he picked her up once they got inside the building and carried her up the stairs to the third floor.

When they got inside he put her down where she'd see the painting once he turned the lights on.

"Harry, that's beautiful!" Ginny said excitedly as soon as the light went on and she saw the painting.

It really was beautiful. Dean had painted a field of wildflowers that looked suspiciously like one of the fields near her parent's house, but that wasn't the main part of the painting. The main part was the gorgeous sunset. The sky took up over two thirds of the painting and it was awe-inspiring.

The Police Memories part of Harry had been lucky to stumble across him painting in a park one day. The Magic Memories part, on the other hand, couldn't believe that his old dormmate from Hogwarts was capable of creating such beauty, despite his ability to create great Quidditch banners.

"Happy Anniversary," Harry said softly as he planted a gentle kiss on Ginny's forehead.

Ginny looked up at him, a mischievous look in her eyes. She gave him a quick grin before dragging him down the hall to the bedroom.

That night, in a way, Harry got the wedding night that had been stolen from him by Romilda Vane. Sure, it was different, after all Ginny was different and so was he, but still, it was special and more amazing than he could have ever dreamed.

As he drifted off to sleep that night the only thought on his mind was how much he loved Ginny. He'd worry about finding Snape tomorrow.


	12. Paid Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry learns a surprising number of things about the people and events in his new world.

Harry didn't have to worry about finding Snape for long.

When he woke around noon the next day Ginny was already gone. She did leave him a small note on her pillow letting him know that last night had been magical.

Harry grinned as he rolled out of bed and padded into the bathroom. Sure, this Ginny looked different from the other two Ginnys he had known, but, ultimately, they were all the same person. Which meant that they all enjoyed being kissed the same way – among other things.

Ten minutes later Harry was showered and wandering out to the kitchen in nothing but a robe. He was ravenous.

After giving his blood sugar a quick check (it was in the high sixties, normal after waking up) he measured out his standard bowl of cereal, chopped up a banana to go on it and put the tea kettle on the stove.

Some part of Harry was amazed that he did all of this without even thinking about it, despite the fact that, in a way, he'd never been inside this flat before.

It was interesting, the only memories that felt truly real now were the Magical Memories up to seventeen, the Soccer Memories from seventeen to twenty-seven, and yesterday. The rest felt a bit like a story he had read somewhere.

While he waited for the kettle to boil Harry injected his insulin. Once everything was ready he took a seat at the kitchen table and unrolled the paper Ginny had left him as he began to eat.

A moment later his spoon slipped from his hand and fell back into the bowl, spilling cereal everywhere.

There, on the front page of the paper, were the words: SNAPE NEXT PRIME MINISTER.

Hurriedly, Harry began reading the article.

In a press conference yesterday Prime Minister Bludge announced that he would be stepping down on 27 June 2007. At the same time, he let out the information that Queen Elizabeth II intends to ask Mr. Severus Snape to be the next Prime Minister. Mr. Snape belongs to the Labor Party, which currently holds a majority in the House of Commons. There is no word yet on who he plans to appoint as Deputy Prime Minister.

Harry stopped reading here as he began pulling out dusty memories of news reports on Snape's slow rise to power.

Once he had finished sorting through them there was only one thought on his mind: This was horrible.

How was he supposed to get help from one of the most important men in the country?

Unthinkingly, Harry began to eat again, his mind running in circles as he tried to figure out how he was going to understand what was happening without Snape's help.

XXX

These thoughts were still running through Harry's mind hours later as he clocked in at the station.

"Harry, you alright? You seem really preoccupied," Ron commented when Harry almost ran over someone for the third time as they walked to their office.

"Huh?" Harry asked in confusion before realizing what Ron had said. "Oh, I'm just distracted." Realizing that wasn't enough, judging from Ron's expression at least. He quickly added, "I had a really good night with Ginny last night."

"Ewww," Ron cried with a look of horror on his face. "You REALLY don't need to say things like that. She's my SISTER, c'mon!"

Harry chuckled as he pulled out his office key, "All I meant was that dinner was really nice. Thanks for recommending the restaurant."

"Oh, well, if that's all you-" Ron started.

"But," Harry added, a twisted grin on his face, "what came after dinner was even better."

Ron let out a choked cry as Harry unlocked the office door and stepped inside, leaving Ron staring after him, a look of utter horror back on his face.

There was a feeling of elation in Harry's chest as he made his way across the small office he shared with his partners. Being able to tease Ron like that made the worries over getting to Snape or finding out why he kept switching worlds much easier to bear.

No one was in the office yet, so Harry took a seat at his desk, turned on his computer, and began looking over his recent case files.

About five minutes later his thoughts were interrupted by the office door opening. Glancing up, he expected to see Ron; instead, it was his other partner.

"Morning," she said cheerfully before drifting across the room towards her desk. After flipping idly through some papers on her desk she spoke again. "Oh, do you know what happened to Ron? Poor thing looks like he found Medusa."

Harry chuckled, "I just made him face the fact that I'm married to his baby sister, that's all."

"Oh, if that's all... Too bad you don't have a sister he could marry." She said wistfully, stars appearing in her eyes as she pictured Ron with a female version of Harry.

"Ya, too bad you don't have a sister," Ron commented from the doorway. He appeared to be fully recovered from Harry's remark now, though Harry could see the promise of revenge in his eyes.

Harry cleared his throat, "Yes, well, I don't think I could handle having a sister."

"Probably not," Ron said mildly as he took a seat at his own desk.

The three of them worked in silence for about an hour after that, going over reports, checking emails, and filing paperwork.

They were eventually interrupted by the phone on Ron's desk ringing. Ron spoke once into the receiver and then hung up.

"That was Black. He's about to head home for the evening but wants to see us first."

The three of them quickly made their way through the warren of passageways to Detective Inspector Black's office. They passed the secretary's desk – who was already gone for the evening – and went through the door to Black's office.

Harry felt a surge of happiness at the sight of his godfather. Not that Black was his godfather in this world, but, nonetheless, he was just glad to see him alive.

Black stared at them silently for a moment, letting tension grow in the room. When he finally spoke his voice was a dull growl that carried through the room.

"I'm glad you could spare me a moment. I just thought you'd be glad to know that your requests for promotions have been accepted." He reached into his desk and pulled out three sets of rank.

Harry found that his eyes were fascinated by the rank. Those chevrons signified all the hard work his Police Memory self had done over the past nine years.

Black passed out the ranks as he continued to talk. "Potter, Weasley, Lovegood – all three of you are now Detective Sergeants. Please do your new ranks justice. Your new orders will be forwarded to you eventually. Until then continue as you have been. Dismissed."

Harry followed Ron and Luna out of Black's office. Part of him couldn't help but feel excited over getting the promotion.

In his Police Memories he'd worked so hard to overcome the disadvantages he'd gained when he'd been diagnosed as diabetic. He couldn't walk the streets as a regular constable, he was a liability. Instead, he'd been relegated to a desk job. He'd spent hours filing papers, doing a job that any cadet could do, definitely not something a full constable with two years under his belt should be doing.

It was Black who had saved him. He'd been a Detective Chief Inspector when he'd bumped into Harry in the records room. Black took a liking to Harry, especially after he heard who his father was. A week later it had been "suggested" that Harry apply to join the Criminal Investigation Department (CID).

So, Harry had applied, and Ron had followed him. A year later Luna had joined them and the three of them were working like a real team.

Luna was the one to spot details that everyone else missed. She would then propose theory after theory, half of which would make no sense, as Ron would point out. Their arguments would get so loud sometimes that Harry would just get up and leave the office. Their arguments served a purpose though, they would eventually narrow it down to two or three theories and then Harry would step in. He would put himself inside the criminal's head and figure out which theory worked best. Then the three of them would tear the area apart, looking for evidence. Half the time they were wrong, but then they'd just do it again. They refused to give up.

After two years of working together they had a higher percentage of cases solved than any other detective at their station.

And now it had all paid off.

As the three of them walked back to their office Harry couldn't help but wonder if getting a higher rank would help him figure out why he was in this world.


	13. Taking Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry finds Snape in an unexpected place.

Harry slowly found himself sucked entirely into this new world.

His nights revolved around working cases with Ron and Luna. And his days revolved around spending time with Ginny when she wasn't at work herself.

After a month of this he could hardly believe that he had once been a wizard or a famous soccer player. He was once again living in the moment, like he had been before. He didn't want to run the risk of having another one of those horrible nightmares, since now it would most likely involve his unborn child. The thought of watching any child of his die or be tortured sent ice water running through his veins.

Harry, Luna, and Ron never did get their new orders before Snape took office; there was too much confusion in the government over the transfer of power.

When the transfer of power occurred and Snape took up residence at the official residence of the Prime Minister, Harry was sitting in front of the tellie, watching.

Ginny had already left for work, so Harry was alone in the apartment when he heard Snape speak the words "Her Majesty the Queen has asked me to form a government and I have accepted."

Snape looked different, compared to what he had looked like in the Magic and Soccer Memories. It took Harry a few minutes to figure out why.

It was because Snape looked happy. He looked genuinely happy.

Why was Snape so happy? Was it because he had apparently never met Lily? Or fallen in love with someone he could never have?

As Harry tried to process this information Snape continued to talk on the tellie. Harry's attention was abruptly brought back to Snape when he heard the words:

"I have decided to appoint the Right Honorable Remus Lupin, the new Lord President of the Council, as my the new Deputy Prime Minister and the Queen has approved this appointment."

The camera flipped over to another man that Harry instantly recognized – Remus Lupin. He wasn't the most shocking person on the screen to Harry. Standing not far behind Lupin, in an out-of-date suit and wearing a sly expression, was Peter Pettigrew.

Harry's ears shut down again as he stared at the man he had watched get strangled by his own silver hand.

Wormtail was looking much healthier than he ever had in Harry's Magic Memories. His clothes may have been out-of-date, but they were clean and obviously well cared for. The only thing that reminded Harry of the Wormtail in his Magic Memories was the look in his eyes.

Wormtail was up to no good.

XXX

About a week after the Right Honorable Severus Snape took up the position of Prime Minister Harry, Ron, and Luna finally received their new orders.

Black stared at the three of them very seriously.

"The three of you need to go empty your desks."

Ron let out a gasp and was about to speak when Harry kicked him.

"Hey!" Ron hissed as Black continued to speak.

"We finally received your new orders and the three of you are being moved from our lovely Streatham station over to the Charing Cross Station. Your new Chief Inspector is Augustus Rookwood. He's rather strict, so the three of you need to start following the rules for once."

The name Rookwood sounded very familiar, but Harry couldn't place it. Had he met Rookwood in one of his other memories?

"I suppose we'll try too," Luna said as she began playing with her hemp and stone bracelet.

Black sighed, "Just don't let anyone know I let the three of you run wild, alright?"

"Alright, we can do that," Harry said.

"Good, now," Black's serious expression turned into a huge grin, "why don't the three of you join me for a drink? Your shift is canceled tonight and you don't work tomorrow, so you can clear out your desks then."

"Sounds like a plan," Ron put in.

Half an hour later Harry was doing something he had never thought he'd be able to do – share a drink in a public place with his godfather. Not that Black knew he was Harry's godfather, he only knew Harry's father through reputation.

James had become a legend when he had tracked down a serial killer right after joining the force. He had been just days out of training when a serial killer preying on young women had kidnapped his pregnant wife, Lily.

Looking back at the story now Harry supposed that the serial killer was Voldemort. Especially since his name had been Tom Riddle.

"You show promise of being like your father," Black said as he took a sip of his drink.

Words like that never failed to move Harry, "Really?"

"Yes, really. I've read the reports. The way he coolly faced down Riddle, tried to reason with him, but, when he realized Riddle was insane, he didn't hesitate to do what he had to. Riddle killed dozens of women and several policemen, your father truly earned his knighthood. I think you'll end up with one someday too. You're too much like him not to."

Harry glanced over at Ron and Luna. The two of them were in a heated (at least on Ron's part) debate about whether there really was a Loch Ness Monster or not. Naturally, Luna thought there was and Ron said it was all a hoax.

Black followed Harry's gaze. "Do you think the two of them will ever recognize that they're meant for each other?"

Harry shrugged, he honestly couldn't picture Ron with anyone besides Hermione, but, since there appeared to be no Hermione around, he supposed that Luna wasn't such a bad choice for Ron. "I think it will take something unusual to get the two of them together."

"You know, I think you're right." Black said with a grin. "My brother only realized he was in love with his now present wife when he got stuck on a broken train in the underground with her for several hours."

"So, are you saying that we should lock the two of them on a train for several hours?" Harry kept his voice serious as he asked this.

"No," Black growled, "that's not what I meant at all. You take things too literally don't you?"

Harry grinned down at his drink, "I've been told that." In fact, he remembered Hermione telling him something to that effect on the shore of the lake by Hogwarts.

"Of course you have," Black said with a chuckle.

The two of them sat there in silence for another ten minutes or so. Both of them lost in their own thoughts. Harry kept going over in his mind the strangeness of realizing that his father had killed Voldemort, or rather, Tom Riddle. He had done in this world what Harry couldn't do in the Magic World. It was also a little odd that the police actually carried guns here.

When their drinks were done they said goodbye to Ron and Luna, the two of them were still arguing, they barely even noticed Black and Harry leave.

As the two of them walked down the street to the bus stop Black spoke again. "Harry, you really do need to stay in line when you're working for Rookwood. He's got his own agenda, he plans to be the Police Commissioner one day. Don't make him look bad, he's crazy enough to have you and his other employees watched at all times. Whatever you do, keep the other two in line also. Got it?"

Harry suddenly remembered who Rookwood was. He had been one of Voldemort's Death Eaters. And now he was going to be Harry's boss.

"Don't worry, I'll play it safe," Harry said as the two of them parted ways and he fully intended to. After all, he wasn't a teenager with no family now. He was a husband, son, and father-to-be. He had too much on the line to put himself in true danger.

XXX

Everything Black had said about Rookwood proved to be true. He gave them the once over on their first day, laid down the law, and then ignored them. Or at least appeared to ignore them, from what Black had said Harry knew that Rookwood was always watching.

Harry made sure to warn Luna and Ron about what Black had told him and the three made sure to follow his rules and stay out of his way.

Before they knew it July was gone. It was on the last day of July, his birthday, that Harry received the greatest gift of all of his lives combined. It was even better than finding out he was a wizard.

He became a father.

As Harry stood there, holding his young son, the only thought on his mind was the hope that he'd get to stay in this world with Ginny and his son forever.


	14. Number 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry, Luna, and Ron are summoned and Harry finds someone unexpected.

There was a small gasp from the doorway as the needle slipped into Harry's stomach. Glancing up, he saw his seven year old son, Arthur James Potter (AJ), and his five year old niece, Molly Rose Weasley.

"Yes?" Harry asked as he finished injecting the insulin and began cleaning things up.

Tears shimmered in Molly's silver eyes, "Did it hurt Uncle Harry?"

"A bit," Harry commented as he dropped the needle in the hazardous waste container on the kitchen counter.

"You're brave, just like my daddy!" Molly exclaimed with a smile as she skipped over to the table to study the bag of diabetic supplies carefully.

"Of course he's brave like Uncle Ron!" AJ chimed in as he joined his younger cousin by the table. "Daddy's a Detective Inspector, just like Uncle Ron!"

Molly ignored him and watched intently as Harry packed everything away. She watched him as if packing away needles and test strips was the most fascinating thing in the world. Harry held the theory that she'd become a doctor one day, what with her fascination with his diabetes and anything else medical she encountered.

When AJ had gotten glasses two months earlier she'd made him hold staring contests with her so she could look at his eyes, trying to see if the glasses made them look differently.

That had been a sight to watch. AJ's unruly black head of hair edging closer and closer to Molly's pale red locks as the staring contest grew more intense.

AJ finally grew tired of being ignored. He grabbed Molly's hand and began pulling her out of the room. "C'mon, I wanna go play with the Wii while the TV's free."

Harry watched as his son pulled his niece out of the kitchen. A stranger would never realize that they weren't the same age; the two of them were of equal height and as close as any two children could be. It been a bit of a surprise to learn that Luna was pregnant with Molly, no one had known that she and Ron were even dating. Following the news there had been a rushed wedding, followed by a quiet honeymoon.

Grabbing the leftover pasta from the microwave, Harry took a seat at the kitchen table and pulled his laptop over. He was reading an article about a Member of Parliament that had recently died from a heart attack when his phone rang.

"Hello?" Harry asked after quickly swallowing his current mouthful of pasta.

"Hey Harry, its Ron, has Ginny gotten home from work yet?"

"No, but she should be here in about five to ten minutes. Why?"

"Rookwood just texted me, apparently there's a new high-profile case and he wants to put us on it."

"Another high-profile one? We just got off one! Why doesn't he give it to Kempf and Shultz? They haven't had a high-profile case in almost two years."

"I asked him that and he started going on about how we haven't lost a case since we transferred to Charring Cross seven years ago. Apparently this case is too important to risk not solving, so he wants the best."

"Great. Here I was thinking we'd get a rest after we bagged the Buckingham Butcher."

"No such luck. He wants us at 10 Downing Street within the hour."

"An hour?" Harry cried, "I live a good forty-five minutes from the there!"

"Yeah, I know, mate. I think becoming a Superintendent has gone to his head. I mean, really, it should be Chief Inspector Black giving us this assignment, not Superintendent Rookwood."

"I don't think being Superintendent has anything to do with it. He's just a control freak that's climbing the ladder to power. We just happen to be very useful to him, so he's a bit more freakish with his controlling of us than he is with the other detectives."

"True–"

"Wait…did you say 10 Downing Street, as in Number 10, the Prime Minister's residence?"

"Yeah, he wouldn't tell me why though."

"Great, well, there goes my quiet night in watching movies. I'll be out the door as soon as Ginny arrives."

"Alright, see you in about an hour then, mate. Luna and I are cutting our lunch date short, so we should beat you there. We'll stall him until you can arrive – just don't leave those two troublemakers alone."

"I don't intend to. I'd like my flat to stay in one piece."

"Don't blame you. See you soon."

"See you."

Harry hung up his phone and proceeded to gobble down his pasta. He was chewing the last bite when the front door to the flat opened. Dropping the plate in the sink Harry made his way towards the voices shouting: "Mommy's home!" "Hi, Aunt Ginny!" "Can you play tennis with us on the Wii?" "You'll be on my team right, Aunt Ginny?"

Rounding the corner into the small entryway he saw his beloved red-haired wife trying to hang up her coat as AJ and Molly crowded around her.

"Children, give her some room," Harry said automatically.

Ginny looked up at the sound of Harry's voice. A grin swept across her beautiful face as she came over to give him a hug and kiss.

"Ewww," AJ said, looking away and making gagging noises.

"Awwww," Molly cried as she clasped her hands under her chin and watched them with stars in her eyes.

When they broke apart Harry explained about Ron's phone call.

"Do you think you'll be home for dinner? I was planning to make shepherd's pie," Ginny asked as she hung her coat up and grabbed his.

"I'm not sure, we've been told this is a high-profile case and we've been told to go to Number 10. We may be stuck for hours. Just save a plate for me if I don't call and tell you otherwise." As Harry told her this she helped him into his coat.

"Alright, stay safe and I hope the Prime Minister is alright."

Harry gave Ginny a quick kiss, "I will and I sure hope he's alright also. A case about finding the person that attacked the Prime Minister is a little too high-profile for my case."

"Same here, I love you."

"I love you, too," Harry responded automatically as the door closed behind him.

Knowing that time was of the essence he didn't even bother with the elevator, instead he took the emergency stairs two at a time.

From the front of his building it was a quick walk down to the tube station and then a thirty minute ride across town.

As the tube sped under the city Harry used his phone to scan the usual news websites, looking for a hint of what he would find at 10 Downing Street, but there was nothing.

Either the reporters hadn't heard about it yet or the case wasn't really news worthy.

When Harry reached Downing Street he found nothing out of the ordinary. There were no police cars, roadblocks, or uniforms around – just the regular amount of tourists and people going about their daily business.

The only thing that really caught Harry's attention were the familiar four people standing by the wrought iron fence near the doorway.

Leaning casually against the fence was Black, his solid black suit looking as rumpled as ever, his graying hair was pulled into a short pony at the nape of his neck.

Next to him, casually leaning on the fence with one hand was Ron. He grinned when he saw Harry. He didn't wave though, his other hand was too busy holding Luna's.

Standing nearby in a pinstriped suit, holding a Blackberry was Rookwood. He glared at Harry as he approached.

"You're late."

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. Sure, he'd worked hard at not making Rookwood upset, but he was too important to Rookwood's continuing success to worry too much anymore. "I had to wait for Ginny get home to watch the kids. They're a little young to leave alone."

Rookwood just grunted and lead them over to the unique dark door that marked the entrance into Number 10.

Moments after he rang the doorbell a pretty maid answered and lead them into the checkered entryway.

"It'll be just a moment Detectives," the maid said quickly before she hurried out of the room.

Harry was examining the old Chippendale guard's chair and idly fiddling with his watch when he heard a startlingly familiar voice say, "Good afternoon, Detectives. I'm glad you could come on such short notice."

Harry's head whipped around so quickly that he almost fell over.

There, standing in the doorway, was a very familiar person.

What was she doing in Snape's house?


	15. Shocking Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry finds some things that throw him for a few loops.

There, framed in an open doorway, stood a young woman in a navy blue suit. Her sensible pumps were still what most would call fashionable and her straight skirt ended neatly right below her knees. Her carefully tailored suit jacket almost hid the slight bump that as Harry knew was only caused by a baby.

How in the world was Hermione Granger pregnant and why was she in Snape's house?

"It was no problem, Miss Granger," Rookwood replied smoothly. "We're always happy to help the Prime Minister's Chief of Staff."

Hermione smiled perfectly, "Thank you, now, which of you lovely gentlemen are Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley? I assume that you're Mrs. Weasley?" She nodded her head in Luna's direction.

Harry couldn't think straight. Hermione was here. She was standing just across the room from him and she was pregnant.

Pregnant.

Hermione was pregnant and it wasn't Ron's child.

For the first time since entering this world Harry was completely thrown off guard. He didn't hear anything else as his mind tried to work things out in his head.

He missed Rookwood's introductions or Hermione's explanation of what was going on. Later, Ron and Luna would fill him in – explaining that someone had poisoned all of the coffee beans that had arrived in the last shipment. The found this out when a maid fed some spilled beans to the birds outside. They hadn't gone public with this because they didn't want to cause panic and destabilize the government.

Right now it was all he could do to just keep breathing as the image of the cool, confident, middle-aged woman in front of him warred with his memories of a young girl, excited about exams and extremely bossy as she ordered him and Ron around or the young woman, trapped forever in a chair, but still trying to make a difference in the world, one article at a time. The three just didn't match up.

Who was this woman in front of him and what had she done with his friend Hermione?

Somehow – Harry was never sure how – he ended up in a small sitting room with Ron, Luna, and Hermione. Rookwood and Black had finished the introductions and promises of support and secrecy and so had left.

Now, the four of them sat around, slowly drinking tea, going back over the details known so far, and waiting on the Prime Minister.

For some reason Harry felt nervous at the thought of seeing Snape again in person. Probably because the last time he'd seen he'd been bending over Harry as the life slowly left his body. The thought of seeing him again, even much older, was a little unnerving.

Harry only had about half an hour to dwell on his thoughts before the sitting room door opened again and the Right Honorable Severus Snape walked through the door.

His hair was cut short and slicked back, only the shiny appearance was familiar to Harry. His black pin-striped suit was custom made and fit him like a glove. Harry had never seen him looking so healthy, well-groomed, or happy before.

As Harry watched with mixed emotions of confusion and shock Snape said hello, nodded in greeting, and then proceeded to take a seat next to Hermione. When he sat down his hand interlaced with hers and they shared a quick peck before turning their attention back to Harry, Luna, and Ron.

"Detectives, thank you for coming on such short notice. I assume you've been briefed on the basics?" Snape's hand never left Hermione's as he spoke.

Harry was still having problems formulating thoughts, let alone words. When he didn't answer Ron jumped in and took charge.

"Yes, someone is trying to kill you and you don't want the news made public, so you want use to proceed with caution and discretion in determining who the culprit is." Ron spoke in an extremely professional manner, apparently impressed with sitting in the same room as the Prime Minister.

"That is correct. We've had the incident with the coffee beans here and at Chequers a fire started in the stables while Hermione and I were in there." He fixed his piercing black gaze on each of their faces. "I have something else for you to do, as well as finding the culprit."

Harry found his voice again. It was shocked out of him at the idea that someone was trying to kill Hermione.

"What is it?"

Snape's gaze fixed itself on Harry. "I want, at all times, for one of you to be with Miss. Granger."

Before Harry or his fellow detectives could respond Hermione took the floor, literally.

"Severus! What do you mean you want them to be with me? If they're with me they won't be finding the culprit!" Harry had seen that look on Hermione before, her body was rigid and her eyes were promising death and destruction.

Snape stood up and glared down at Hermione, "I want them with you! Obviously the assassin is after you, I don't even drink coffee and the whole world knows it." His voice was cold and deadly serious.

"Why would they be after me? No one even knows I'm more than your chief of staff! So who would want to kill me? Wasn't that the excuse you gave eight years ago?"

Harry, Ron, and Luna sat in stunned silence at the argument going on across the small coffee table from them.

Harry tried to think about why being associated with the Prime Minster in such a way was dangerous. Eventually he pulled out an old, dusty memory from before he entered this world. The previous Prime Minster, Bludge, had lost his wife to car bombing. No wonder Snape had wanted Hermione to keep hidden. Harry probably would've done the same thing with Ginny.

"Yes! But things have changed! We weren't careful and now it's quite evident that you aren't the asexual control-freak everyone thought you were!" Snape had lost his cool, the two of them were spitting daggers back and forth.

Hermione drew herself up to her full height, "Control-freak?" She hissed.

Snape seemed to have realized he had gone too far. He backed down, even going so far as to sit back down. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I just don't want you getting hurt."

Hermione glared at him for a moment before sitting down stiffly next to him. "I don't want either of us getting hurt, but I don't see how having a detective follow me around is going to help."

Snape sighed and turned his attention abruptly back to Harry, Ron, and Luna, as if he had just remembered they were in the room.

"I apologize for that display, please forget about it. Now, I have two reasons for wanting one of you to follow Miss Granger. One, she needs some extra protection, especially with the baby on the way. Two, I think they'll strike again soon, most likely against her, and your best chance of catching them would be when they do so." His voice was once again stiff and formal while his face showed no emotion.

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Luna.

"Why don't you just marry her? You could protect her better that way," she said with that eerily calm and wispy voice.

"That's a very good question," Hermione said sharply as her glare focused on Snape again.

"No, a public wedding would offer too many chances for someone to attack and a private one would cause too much talk and suspicion." He looked around the room, focusing his gaze once again upon Harry, Ron, and Luna. "I want the three of you to work with her and devise a schedule. I need to get back to work; I've already been away for too long." He leaned over and gave Hermione another kiss before standing up and straightening his suit.

Harry could completely understand why a public wedding would be dangerous. Hadn't he been killed at his own by Romilda Vane? Harry's muscles clenched at the thought of Hermione bleeding out at the altar. Only his watch cutting into his skin reminded him that it was just his imagination, Hermione was fine, she wasn't going to die. He'd make sure of that.

"Be careful, I'll see you tonight." Hermione's voice had softened back to it's normal tone, though there was still a hint of anger and frustration behind it.

"I'll see you then," Snape said to Hermione before turning to look at the detectives. "Nice to meet you, please keep her safe."

Harry watched as Snape left the room, once the door was shut he realized that Snape had never even asked for their names.

Well, apparently some things never changed. Snape may be Prime Minster, but he was still an arrogant prick.


	16. Exploding Snap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everything, known and unknown, explodes in but a snap of the fingers.

Harry looked at his watch again. Where was Luna? He had to get home to get AJ and Molly from Ginny so she could get to work. Ron wasn't available – he was tracking down the identity of the shooter from last week.

Harry cast a sidelong look at Hermione. She seemed completely oblivious to him as she read something on her Kindle, moving Rose's stroller back and forth slowly with one foot as a warm spring breeze teased her curls.

They were sitting outside of a little café, having an afternoon tea, as they waited for Luna to show up.

Hermione began to nibble on a pen she pulled out of some pocket; Harry let his eyes begin to wander around the crowded street again. Ever since someone had taken a shot at them on the grounds of Chequers, he'd been extra careful.

If he'd had his way Hermione would be safely ensconced at Number 10 with Rose. At least when they were there they only had to worry about bombings or poison and those could be easily watched for. Feeling nervous he looked up and scanned the rooftops for snipers.

The shooting at Chequers had been a close one.

It had been one of those rare days when the weather was absolutely perfect. They sky was a perfect shade of robin's egg blue with little puffy clouds floating merrily across it. Ron and Luna had been following up on a lead in London, so Harry had been left behind to guard Hermione by himself. This wasn't as difficult or as dangerous as it had been seven months earlier.

This was due to the fact that Snape had finally buckled down and married Hermione. There had been no ceremony or fanfare. They had just quietly signed some documents, changed their names, and then continued to live in the same manner as they had before.

Harry had been sure to slip the scoop to Ginny for her column in the society pages. There had been an uproar in Parliament when the news was uncovered – no one had seen it coming.

It had given Harry a warm, fuzzy feeling inside when he saw Pettigrew's lips purse and fear flicker through his eyes. Though he had no proof – his gut told him that Pettigrew was somehow involved in what was going on. He couldn't be the mastermind though, he wasn't the sort.

There had to be someone else behind it, and, even now, three months after the Chequers shooting he wasn't any closer.

They had been so lucky that day. Hermione had been engrossed in reading something on her Kindle as her baby, Rose, laid on the blanket and chewed merrily on a toy. Harry had been sitting next to them, carefully scanning the gardens, when his watch had gone off.

Since Harry normally didn't set the alarm on his antique watch he'd looked down in surprise.

Just as his head moved down there was a loud "CRACK!" and something went whizzing by his ear.

Harry reacted instantly. He grabbed Rose and shoved her into Hermione's arms before pushing them behind a thick oak tree. He took up a position behind another tree and pulled out his sidearm as security guards appeared and began to fan through the trees, looking for the sniper.

All they'd found was a sniper rifle lodged in a tree with a clear view of where Harry, Rose, and Hermione had been sitting.

There had been no finger prints.

Their only lead was a custom made leather glove that was devoid of DNA or fingerprints. Ron was currently questioning every leather glove maker in London.

Harry glanced at his watch again. Where was Luna?

His phone rang.

"Hello?"

Ginny's voice answered, "Harry?"

"Is something wrong?"

Hermione looked up from her Kindle for a moment, adjusted Rose's blanket, and went back to reading. Harry went back to watching the crowd as Ginny spoke.

"I have to get to work, we're having a meeting."

"I'm sorry-"

"No, don't worry about it. I figured you'd be late. Luna probably found a nice patch of flowers to look at and got distracted. I just dropped the children off at Fred and George's shop. So pick them up from there."

Harry breathed a silent sigh of relief as his eyes caught on a head of silver hair moving through the crowd. He wouldn't have to worry about rushing now. The twins could keep Molly and AJ occupied for hours.

"That's great. I'll pick them up as soon as I'm free here. I hope the twins don't mind."

"Of course not, you know they enjoy being the spoiling bachelor uncles."

Harry's eyes continued to follow the strange silver head as he chuckled.

"Yes, I think they'd spoil Molly and AJ rotten if we let them. Oh, I picked up your engagement ring. They did a really good job getting it clean."

"Great, I feel naked without it on."

Harry chuckled, "Do you now? Maybe I should keep it from you a little longer…."

"Harry!"

"Alright…I guess not. Are you almost at work?"

"Almost, I'm about a block away. Oh, what something special for dinner tonight? I'll pick something up on my way home."

Something about that silver head was niggling at Harry's mind and the feeling only got worse when it disappeared inside of a building down the street. It was all Harry could do to stay on the phone, hold his position, and keep his tone of voice normal.

"Maybe a pasta? I've been really good with my carbs today."

"Pasta it is th–"

Ginny's voice was suddenly cut off and a second later a different voice spoke into the phone. The voice was harsh and gravely, almost a growl, and eerily familiar.

"Oh, what's this? Such a pretty little woman here. I wonder what she tastes like. Should I find out?"

Harry's blood ran cold as Ginny let out a quickly muffled scream. He was on his feet and had two taken steps before he realized his mistake.

There, on a rooftop across the street and over one was the silver head from earlier and it was clearly pointing something right at him, Hermione, and Rose. Harry dropped the phone and leaped into action.

"Run!" Harry shouted as he grabbed Rose's stroller, kicked the brakes up and shoved her down the sidewalk. Then he turned, grabbed Hermione's arm, and shoved her after her daughter.

She didn't even stop to think or even question, she ran after he daughter, brown hair falling from its bun and trailing behind her. Harry was about to follow her when he felt suddenly dizzy. His vision grew blurry, as if he had forgotten to put in his contacts. In a state of confusion and shock he looked down to see his hands shaking.

Sugar.

Harry had forgotten to eat. When had he last eaten? It had been awhile ago, that was for sure. He had planned to eat once Luna showed up, but he had misjudged it.

Stumbling, trying to follow Hermione, he barely saw the screaming, pulsing crowd around him as there was a dull click, whistle, and explosion.

The world around Harry erupted into fire as a rocket landed right behind him. He was thrown through the air. While experiencing this unexpected, fiery, flying lesson his eyes locked back onto the pale head, just in time to see that it was attached to a pale, pointed face.

Harry landed in the worst possible way. He heard a large CRACK as his head slammed into a wall. Blood poured down his face as Harry tried to focus on what he had to do.

Hermione, he had to protect Hermione and Rose.

No, wait, Ginny!

He had to rescue Ginny!

Somehow, Harry stumbled to his feet. As soon as he stood up his vision swam and went dim. He held onto the wall for a moment, taking deep breaths, and trying to catch his balance.

Once he felt steady enough to let go he slowly moved down the street, going in the same direction Hermione and Rose had gone in.

He didn't get very far.

He'd gone, maybe, two meters, when someone kicked his feet out from under him. Harry's arms wrapped around his skull as he fell, trying to protect. From the ground he looked up blearily at an extremely familiar face.

"You've led me on a merry chase Harry Potter, but I always get my mark," Draco Malfoy said coldly as he pulled out a small pistol.

Harry was dizzy, in pain, scared, and pissed off. Right then he didn't care if he sounded crazy. He didn't even know if he sounded crazy. All of his memories were spinning together, getting tangled up and intertwined. He could no longer tell the difference between his Magic, Soccer, and Police Memories.

"What the hell, Malfoy! Why'd you shoot me! I saved you from the Room of Requirement!"

Malfoy frowned, "The what?"

Harry's hands gripped his head tighter, trying to staunch the blood that was now pour out and pooling around him. He was having even worse trouble focusing his eyes now.

"The Room of Requirement! I grabbed a broom and saved you and Goyle from the Fiendfyre!"

"You've lost your marbles. What the hell is that nonsense? Wait, don't answer that. Just shut up so I can shoot you in peace."

For the third time Harry realized he faced certain death.

"Ron, Luna, please save Ginny," Harry whispered right before sirens erupted all around him and his vision gave out on him entirely.

Once again, the world went black and Harry knew no more.


	17. Polished Marble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry wakes up, again. He keeps doing that, doesn't he?

The first thing Harry realized was that his head was hurting, a lot.

Trying to remember what had happened he shifted and reached up; expecting to feel some sort of bandage he was surprised to find that there was nothing there.

"Good morning, sir." A very polite, polished voice said as soon as Harry moved.

Cautiously, Harry cracked his eyes open. Before he could take in his surroundings light flooded the room as a grey-haired, polished man pushed open the floor to ceiling scarlet drapes. Harry gasped in pain as the light hit his eyes.

"Should I fetch you Molly's hangover cure, sir? Your parents are expecting to see you in thirty minutes."

Harry couldn't think straight. Molly? Did he mean his niece Molly? His mother-in-law? Was he even in his Police Memories anymore? Was this a different Molly? His head hurt too badly to think straight, he had to get rid of the pain so he could think.

"Ah, yes, please," Harry managed to get out through gritted teeth. It was all he could do not to throw-up whatever was inside of him.

"Very good, sir."

As soon as the man left the room Harry stumbled out of bed, heading towards another door in the room, hoping it was a bathroom.

He was in luck.

Paying almost no attention to his surroundings, Harry made his way carefully across the cool marble floor to the sink. Carefully turning on one of the gold faucets he splashed cold, refreshing water on his face. Instantly he felt slightly better.

Willing to do anything to get rid of the pain he stuck his whole head under the faucet, being very careful not to slam it into the polished marble sink. Just the cold water helped him think more clearly.

What was he doing here? He had apparently switched worlds again, that was for certain, but how had he done it?

There was a subtle clearing of the throat from the doorway. Harry pulled his head carefully from the water and turned around to see the older gentlemen standing in the doorway with a glass of some green mixture.

"Here you go, sir."

Harry did his best to smile, "Ah, thanks."

Carefully he crossed the bathroom to take the glass. As he did so he finally noticed his surroundings. The room was all gleaming gold and polished marble. Never had he seen such a lavish room before and it was apparently his.

Through the doorway he could see that the bedroom he had been unable to see clearly before, due to the pain, was even more lavish. The floor was a rich hardwood and covered with thick, intricate rugs. The walls were covered in rich fabrics and expensive paintings. It looked like a room Harry would expect to see at Malfoy Manor.

As soon as he took the glass and began drinking it down the old man opened another door into a closet as big as Harry's room back at the Dursley's. Harry drank the nasty liquid as he watched clothes get picked out for himself.

Harry felt awkward as he stripped off his clothes and began to put on new ones. The servant, butler, or whatever was insisted on helping Harry button everything. His hand-eye coordination was extremely lacking at the moment. It was all he could do to stay on his feet, though his head was feeling a bit better.

He soon found himself dressed in an immaculate navy blue suit, crisp white shirt, and scarlet tie.

He didn't recognize himself. Shifting, he tried to get more comfortable. He found himself instantly wanting to wear something, anything else. He didn't care if it was a wizard's robes, soccer uniform, police uniform, or just jeans and a t-shirt. Anything would be better than this.

"I know you're uncomfortable, sir, but your parents want you to look professional."

Harry was so lost. Why was he being told what to do by his parents? He was thirty-five! And why would they require him to dress like this? Where were his memories for this world?

"Your arm please, sir."

Not even thinking, Harry stuck his arm out and watched as the old man put cufflinks on him. Once one arm was done Harry held his wrist close to his face, looking at the cufflink. It was eerily familiar looking, shaped like a pair of fine wings with a small ball between them. It took Harry a second to dig through his memories and remember what it looked like.

It was a snitch.

What was a snitch doing here? Had Harry finally made it back to a world with magic?

Once both cufflinks were on Harry reached out one finger to delicately touch the intricate golden snitch. Half a second after his finger brushed the gold he felt himself being sucked into his memories again.

There were now four memories of his childhood. In one he was hopelessly abused by his aunt and uncle, in the second he was cherished as much as his cousin, the third had him growing up with his parents, but the fourth was steeped in tragic luxury,

His father was arrested by the state when he was three for treason and quickly executed. All Harry had left of him were the small, strange cufflinks. Two years later his stepfather appeared on the scene, having finally convinced his mother that she had to move on, her son needed a father.

They had moved from one of the bleak, cell-like apartments into this huge mansion. And so, Harry had gone from being one of the millions of unlucky children being groomed to be mere drones to becoming one of the privileged few that could control his future.

Not that he had done so.

Harry couldn't help but feel disgust at the person he was in this memory. There had been no goal, no dream, no future. He had merely existed.

Except when his mother or stepfather wanted him to do something he had partied. Every night he went to bed drunk and every morning he awoke with a hangover. It was a never ending cycle that he had been following for almost twenty years now.

But Ginny, where was Ginny?

Desperately Harry searched through his new memories. He knew he couldn't save her from Greyback in the Police Memories – it was too late for that. But maybe he could protect her in this world a little better.

Harry felt a shout of joy escape his lips, it probably startled poor Jones, his valet, but he didn't care.

He had found Ginny in this world; she'd been right under his nose for most of his life.

She was the maid that cleaned his room every day.

The very maid his Wealth Memory self had been trying to seduce for the past two years.

Harry had the oddest feeling that she wasn't going to be too happy about his newfound desire to protect her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you're having trouble remembering ages/dates.
> 
> 1980-1998 (0-17) Magic Memories
> 
> 1998-2008 (17-27) Soccer Memories
> 
> 2008-2016 (27-35) Police Memories
> 
> 2016-20XX (35-XX) Wealth Memories


	18. Secret Punishments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some rather disturbing things about Harry's past are uncovered.

Integrating the new set of memories wasn't as painful as it had been the last time. Harry supposed that his brain was getting used to pulling in the new memories. That didn't mean that he didn't space out for a couple minutes.

"Sir? Sir, are you alright?"

Harry blinked and focused in on Jones' concerned face. It was interesting that this old man actually cared about him, even if everyone else in this world thought he was an arrogant, idiotic drunkard of a playboy.

"Yes, Jones. I'm alright, I just blanked out. I don't think I should drink that much again."

"Sir, you say that every morning." As Jones said this he crisply grabbed a comb and ran it through Harry's hair. It didn't do much good.

"Well, this time I mean it. Why are you combing my hair? It does no good."

"It's my job to do this." Jones stepped back and looked Harry up and down. There was a pleased expression on his face. "Yes, I do believe you're presentable now, sir. Your parents are waiting for you in the blue parlor."

Harry nodded, "Thanks, Jones."

"No problem at all, sir. Will you need my services sometime soon?" Jones began tidying up the already neat counter.

Harry felt torn, he wanted to let this kind old man go and relax, but he also wanted to keep him close. Except for his mother, this was probably the only person in this world that would care if he dropped dead. After a minute of deliberation Harry decided to push the decision off until later.

"Let me see what my parents have to say first. I may need you."

"Very well, sir. I shall remain here in my suite. Just send me a text with your decision."

Harry nodded and left the bathroom. As he crossed the opulent bedroom he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. Why was he so wealthy? Or rather, why were his parents so wealthy?

Harry gave his head a shake at the last thought. It wasn't his parents that were wealthy; it was his stepfather – his wonderfully lovely stepfather that might've had a hand in his father's conviction and death.

Not that his Money Memory self had ever spent much time dwelling on his father or the past. Not since he'd been locked in a cell without food for a week just for asking what treasonous thing his father had done. That had been when he was eleven and his mother had been out of the country on business – she'd never heard about it.

There had been a lot of things his mother had never heard about.

When he was thirteen he was sent off to Eton as an Oppidan. He'd been an unusually small and scrawny thirteen year old, which hadn't endeared him to his classmates. The only thing that had saved him socially was his stepfather's power. Very few of the boys at Eton could say that their father was among the ten most powerful men in England, let alone Europe.

So, Harry hadn't had any close friends during his time there, but at least he'd had people to eat, study, and hang out with. That is, he had that for the first two years.

It was at the beginning of his third year there that his stepfather had come for a visit without Harry's mother. It had only taken five minutes for everyone to see that Harry was hated by his stepfather.

Five minutes after that Harry found himself completely alone. No longer did he have anyone to sit with while he ate. People refused to sit at the same table as him in the library, let alone study with him. And forget about hanging out. No one wanted anything to do with him now that they knew it wouldn't help their career.

Depressed and alone Harry had found himself wandering through town, trying to put off going back to the aloneness of his dorm. That was when he had bumped into a tall, bearded man. From where he had fallen on the sidewalk Harry looked up to see the largest man he had ever seen. After making sure Harry was alright, Hagrid had asked him into his club for a cup of tea.

Harry smiled unconsciously at the thought of Hagrid, it had been so long since he'd seen him.

It turned out that Hagrid ran a hunting club in this world. Over time Harry had spent more and more of his free time at the club with Hagrid. Eventually he'd learned how to track, ride a horse, and fire a multitude of different guns. During a special demonstration he'd even learned how to aim, fire, and clean an AK-47. Those had been the best moments of his life.

Lily had never learned about any of that. Whenever she visited Harry would bribe and bully his classmates into pretending to be his friend. They only agreed when they realized that making Harry's mother unhappy would make unpleasant waves in their future political careers.

She was one of the most famous women in the world. After all, you can't help being famous if you're the one to design the remodel of Versailles, Buckingham Palace, and Hofburg Imperial Palace. And she was married to one of the most important politicians in the world – or the only part of the world that really counted at least.

After Eton had come Oxford. Harry couldn't be sure if he had graduated from there because he had put forth just enough effort or because everyone was afraid to find out what happened if he failed.

Unfortunately Hagrid wasn't around when Harry went on to Oxford. So he had gotten no good advice when he discovered girls (Eton was an all boys school) and alcohol. He did manage to stay away from the drugs scene, not because he didn't want another stimulant, but because he didn't want to risk ruining his marksmanship skill. While at Oxford Harry joined another hunting club, but found no real friends there, they were all a bit too worried about Harry's stepfather.

By the time he (somehow) graduated he never spent a night sober. It made dealing with his stepfather so much easier.

Harry blinked and jerked himself out of his memories when he noticed that his feet had stopped moving. It took a moment for him to realize that he was now standing outside of an elaborately carved door that was twice his height.

Taking a deep breath and composing his features Harry knocked lightly on the door.

A second later a warm, loving voice called out, "Come in."

Carefully Harry pushed open the door and stepped into the tastefully decorated Blue Parlor. He had to blink a couple of times to let his eyes adjust to the bright rays of sunlight pouring in through the floor to ceiling windows.

Once he could see again he noticed that his mother relaxing on a sedan with a sketchpad across her lap. She looked up as he entered and smiled.

Harry couldn't help but smile back. It wasn't very often that his Money Memory self got to be alone with his mother. Usually his stepfather was there also.

"Hello, Mom," As Harry said this he quickly strode across the room to give her a hug.

As they embraced Harry breathed in her perfume and let himself relax just a bit. At least his mother was alive, well, and still a part of his life.

"Hello, Harry dear." She pulled back and studied his face for a moment, "You're hungover again." It wasn't a question.

Harry shrugged and pulled out his most common response from his new set of memories, "Of course I am, it's only ten in the morning."

Lily's face grew concerned, "Harry you need to take care of yourself. You're much too old to be partying like this. That's actually why I wanted to talk to you this morning."

"Oh?" Harry kept his voice casual as he took a seat on the couch across from her.

"Yes, your father and I have been talking and we think it's high time you began doing your part for the nation. We won't always be here to support you after all."

Harry kept silent and simply nodded. He really had no idea where she was going with this. His headache was almost gone, but his reasoning skills were still a little sluggish.

Lily took his nod to mean that he agreed with her. "Good, now, here's the plan. One of your father's colleagues has a son about your age. He's agreed to take you under his wing and show you the ropes. Actually, you may have heard of him, I think you went to Eton and Oxford together. I don't know if your paths crossed though, he was a King's Scholar at Eton and top of his class at Oxford while you…"

Harry knew why she didn't finish her sentence. A King's Scholar wasn't likely to spend lots of time with a Oppidan that barely graduated and someone at the top of the class at Oxford wasn't likely to be friends with the bottom of the class.

"Who is it?" Harry was curious; he really hadn't kept track of the fourteen King's Scholars in his year to find out what university they went to. At this thought Harry dug his finger nail into his thumb in the attempt to remind himself that he really hadn't gone to Eton, his Money Memory self had been the one to do that.

He had to keep himself on track, he was probably never going to get back to Hogwarts and his Magic Memories (it had been eighteen years after all), but that didn't mean he shouldn't do the best he could with what he had now and that meant he had better stop thinking and start listening.

"You remember Lucius Malfoy?"

Harry tensed up at the mention of a Malfoy. At least it wasn't Draco; still, Malfoy's were like ants. If you found one, more were likely to be around. To appease his mother though he nodded stiffly.

Lilly smiled, too caught up in talking to notice Harry's clenched fists.

"Good! I told Severus that you would. Now, it's his son that will be lending you a hand, Draco Malfoy. You're going to start working with him tomorrow morning and I want you to put in at least forty hours a week. Alright?"

NO! Harry wanted to shout, but instead he just nodded stiffly and stood up to leave. It took all of his strength to not start screaming and shouting, like he had when he was fifteen. He was an adult; adults don't lose their temper over having to work with someone they can't stand. Though….Harry paused, he might be forgiven for losing his temper over having to work with the person that had just killed him mere hours earlier.

Except that wasn't a good enough excuse here, this Draco had never killed Harry, or even tried to kill him. The most he had ever done was ignore him, which, honestly, was the best thing he had ever done to Harry. Funny that the kindest thing someone had ever done was ignore him.

Smiling harshly at his own twisted humor Harry headed for the door, not trusting himself to say anything more to his mother.

As he was reaching for the handle the door opened.

There, standing in the opening, was the one person that had ever stood the chance of helping Harry out of this vicious cycle of memories and worlds. But, in this world, he really didn't look like he wanted to help Harry hang a picture, let alone rescue him.

"Ah…," his stepfather said coldly, "leaving so soon Harry? Did your mother not offer you a drink quickly enough?"

Harry couldn't help but feel a trickle of fear at the sight of Snape perfectly groomed and in a military uniform.


	19. Hedge Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry uncovers quite a few things by doing what he does best - eavesdropping.

Harry pulled on his mask, the one he always used to use when talking with potential suspects, and stared Snape right in the eye.

"Of course she didn't offer me one; it's much too early in the day to be drinking." Harry gave a tight smile, "As for leaving so soon, well, I do have plans for the day and it's not getting any earlier."

Snape's eyes narrowed as he looked Harry up and down. "You? Have plans? Who would've known?"

"Severus…" Lily said quietly from the couch.

Snape looked over at Harry's mother, "Sorry dear, I'm just annoyed at how he spends his days."

"I know sweetheart, that's why we're making a stipulation this time."

Harry turned to look at his mother, "Stipulation?" What stipulation, she hadn't given him a stipulation.

Snape's face transformed in an instant: his anger was gone and replaced by what Harry could only call an evil happiness.

"Yes, stipulation. We've helped you get a job several times over the past decade only to have you never show up or quit after a day or two. That won't be happening this time. I've finally convinced your mother that this can't go on any longer. You'll make this job work or you'll be out on the streets, living on the dole just like every other good-for-nothing."

Harry just stared at Snape. The dole? Living in a shoebox of an apartment with no running water and only a fireplace to cook on? And barely enough money to feed and clothe himself, let alone do anything else? That's how he and his mother had lived before she married Snape and he really didn't want to go back to that.

"Do you understand?" Snape asked, cold excitement dripping from his words.

"I know it seems harsh, dear, but you are thirty-five. It's high time you made something of yourself." Lily said soothingly.

"Yes, I understand. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things to do to get ready for tomorrow." Harry gave his mother a small smile before turning and brushing past Snape.

Once he was out in the hallway Harry pulled out his phone and texted Jones.

Jones, you're free until tonight.

I will need professional dress in the morning.

I have a new job. Harry

Once that was sent Harry moved purposefully through the house and out a side door into the gardens. He felt tense and stressed out. The thought of having to deal with Malfoy daily or be stuck in a box, almost starving to death, did not help matters in the least. So Harry was heading for the one place he had control of: the shooting range.

Ever since Hagrid had first introduced him to guns he had been passionate about them. When he had a gun in his hand, on the range or in the woods, he had control. No one was controlling him or his destiny, he felt as if he could do anything. In a way it was like having a wand in his hand again. Except all he could do was blast things.

Harry was almost at the indoor shooting range when he heard voices from behind a hedge. Curious as to who was out here he wandered over and looked through the leaves. Once he adjusted and was able to see who it was he smiled, they were a sight for sore eyes.

There, standing by a sparkling fountain, concealed by a weeping willow, were Ginny, Ron, Fred, and George.

"Ginny, please, come with us! I don't know why you stay here." Ron was pleading.

"Ron, you know why I can't leave," Ginny said firmly.

"Our parents can take care of themselves," one of the twins said.

"Yeah, they know the dangers of working here," the other twin said.

Ginny stomped her foot, "No they don't! They don't know that you're part of an organized rebellion! They think you're in Australia!"

"Shhh! Ginny! There are ears everywhere!" Ron looked around furtively as he said this.

"And there are eyes everywhere too! You shouldn't be here. If Snape finds you here he'll have you dangling from the end of a rope even faster than he had James Potter or Sirius Black dangling! He isn't your friend; he won't try and 'plead' for a lighter sentence. Hell, he might just hang you up here in the garden if he thinks his wife won't mind!"

"Tut, tut."

"What would-"

"-mom say-"

"-if she-"

"-heard you-"

"-cursing?"

Ginny fixed a glare on the twins. "She'd bloody well applaud me! I'm not a little girl anymore and you three need a good lecture!"

"We'll let you lecture us if you come with us." Ron said as the twins nodded in agreement.

"No! Now get out of here!" Ginny glanced around a little nervously. "It's noon so the drunkard should be awake by now. He'll be down here at his private play room in a few minutes and I really don't want to get caught by him again."

Harry cringed inwardly at the instance that she was referring too. He'd still been drunk when he'd found her down here. He'd forced a kiss on her before she'd pushed him away and sprinted off for the house. Oh yes, he had a lot of work ahead if he wanted to protect her and get on her good side.

Ron's nostrils flared, "What did he do?"

Ginny shook her head, "Never mind that, you just get out of here. I need to get back to my chores before I'm missed."

Harry watched as Ginny turned and hurried back towards the house, leaving her brothers standing under the willow tree.

"If I ever meet that Potter brat in a dark alley I'll do a number on him." Ron spat out as he watched his sister leave.

"Sounds good, just be sure to call us to come help," the twins said furiously.

"Will do; now let's get out of here."

"Good idea, Hermione's going to skin you alive if she finds out you came back here," one of the twins commented as he adjusted something strapped to his side under his coat.

Ron shuddered, "Please, don't remind me."

Harry watched silently as the three of them silently moved farther away from the house. Questions rolled around in his head. There was a rebellion? Ron, Hermione, and the twins were in it? Hope began to flare inside Harry's chest.

Everything about this felt so familiar. Details about this new world began popping into Harry's head like daisies as he entered the shooting range and began changing into something more practical (he kept a change of clothes there).

Back in 1941 the Nazi's had been storming across the continent, ruled by Hitler, when a coup occurred. At the end of it Hitler lay buried in a shallow grave and Grindelwald had taken over. Under his leadership the Nazi's took over most of the world. England was conquered in 1945 when Grindelwald publicly executed the British leader, Albus Dumbledore.

Grindelwald ruled until 1980, when he suffered a heart attack. When he died he passed on the title of Fuhrer to his second-in-command, Tom Riddle. The new Fuhrer no longer spouted the line "For the greater good," like Grindelwald had. Laws became harsher and conditions worse. Which lead to a small rebellion, during which time his father was accused of being part of it, despite being good friends with the Fuhrer's right hand man.

That had been over thirty years ago now, and during that time there had been not even a hint about a rebellion, but Harry had the feeling that was about to change and he wanted in on it. He was finally about to get another shot at Voldemort, maybe that would end this cycle of world changing. Harry was getting a little tired of that.

Grinning, happy at the thought of staying in a world forever, Harry grabbed his gun and took up a spot on the range.

Slipping on his ear plugs he began firing at the stationary targets. When he wanted a bigger challenge he flipped a switch to make them move in a regular pattern. Eventually even that became too easy, so he flipped another switch. The targets began moving around in faster, more random patterns.

Harry didn't miss a shot.

Pleased with himself and much calmer, Harry turned everything off, laid his gun down, and pulled his earplugs out. As soon as he did so he heard applause.

Surprised, Harry whirled around to find Malfoy leaning casually against the door. As soon as Harry turned Malfoy stopped applauding and put his hands over his head, a look of shock on his face.

"Um…I'm here in peace!" Malfoy got out.

Harry was confused as to what he meant until he realized that his gun was in his hand and he was looking down the sight at Malfoy. Harry turned red and put the gun back down.

"Oh, sorry, I'm not used to anyone being in here with me."

Malfoy smirked as he lowered his hands, "I can see that. Are you always that fast and good with that thing?"

"Yes," Harry said as he unloaded the bullets and went to put them away.

"Then I think you might just do."

"Do?" Harry was confused; he didn't even know why Malfoy was here, he didn't start working until tomorrow after all.

"I'll tell you the truth Potter. When I was informed by my father that I was to show the ropes to Snape's stepson, the son of a traitor, I wasn't too thrilled. But, upon seeing your shooting skills, I don't think I mind so much."

"Why's that?" Harry pulled out his cleaning kit and took a seat at the table with his gun.

"Why, it's because of what you're going to be doing. Didn't anyone tell you?" Malfoy casually took a seat next to Harry.

It took all of Harry's willpower not to hurt Malfoy. Being this close to his recent murderer was sickening.

"No, what am I going to be doing?"

"Why, you're going to be joining the Fuhrer's Guard of course."


	20. The Grindle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry has to face facts and accept his new position in this world.

Harry's eyebrows shot up past the small patch of discoloration on his forehead and towards his hairline. "The Fuhrer's Guard? Do I have the trust or clearance for that?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "Don't worry, you won't be guarding the Fuhrer. You're too junior for that. You're going to join me in guarding the Minister of International Affairs, my father."

"Oh," Harry's brief thought of being able to assassinate Voldemort easily went out the window. Which was just as well, he'd probably get himself killed trying to do it – and that wouldn't do Ginny any good.

Malfoy's eyes moved around the room until they latched onto the gun Harry was cleaning. As Harry cleaned gunpowder residue off of the innards Malfoy's eyes grew wide.

"Is that a Grindle?" The awe and jealousy in Malfoy's voice made Harry grin. He took intense pleasure in making Malfoy jealous.

"Yes, and it's not just any Grindle," Harry said this as he picked up the gun and tilted it so Malfoy could see the butt of the gun. Engraved on the butt were lists of letters and at the end, right under GG, was HP.

Malfoy's eyes grew as large as saucers. "This is THE Grindle? You're the one that outbid me on it a decade ago?"

Harry grinned, "Oh, was that you that I out-bid?"

"Yes! Goddamnit! Three seconds to go and I had the high bid! How did you do that?" Malfoy didn't seem truly angry, but jealousy shown bright in his eyes as he watched Harry go back to cleaning.

"Very carefully," Harry said, trying to conceal the grin that was threatening to fix itself permanently to his face.

"Hmph, well, if you die in the line of duty can I have it?"

A shudder of disgust ran down Harry's spine at the thought of Malfoy touching one of his most prized possessions; it effectively wiped the smile from his face.

"No, sorry, my will states that it's to be donated to The Hagrid Hunting Lodge," Harry gave his gun one more wipe and began reassembling it.

Malfoy crossed his arms and slumped back in his seat, "Fine, be that way."

Harry ignored him and continued to reassemble 'The Grindle'. He wasn't quite sure how to deal with this Malfoy. He seemed to still be arrogant and a little cruel, but there was also a humanity to him that he'd never seen in his Magic Memories and certainly not in his Police Memories.

As Harry was locking his gun back up Malfoy spoke again.

"Hey, you doing anything this evening?"

Harry looked at Malfoy in surprise, was this a possible invitation?

"Are you inviting me to do something?"

Malfoy nodded, "Yes, a few of my friends and I are going to go check out a new club. Want to join us?"

He really didn't feel like hanging out with Malfoy, but if it meant making his new job easier, than sure, he'd put up with him and his cronies for a few hours. Harry shrugged nonchalantly, "Sure."

"Great, we'll see you at 'The Spinning Head' at nine." Malfoy was halfway to the door before he added, "Oh, and it's a coat and tie sort of place and they don't allow Doles in there, so don't bring any of your regular posse."

Harry rolled his eyes as the door shut behind Malfoy, somethings about people never changed. Malfoy was still an elitist. Not that Harry particularly minded at the moment. The Doles he usually hung out and drank with were only his 'friends' for one reason – he had money to buy them alcohol. They would ditch him in an instant if he failed at this job and became a Dole himself. That didn't bug him too much; at least he knew exactly where he stood with them.

Once he was sure that Malfoy wasn't going to come back for something Harry slipped into his small office and logged onto his computer. There was no internet in this world, only something called The Network that was only accessible inside of the Nazi controlled countries. It was tightly controlled by the government, so didn't have much of anything on it.

What it did have was a list of past rebellions and very graphic descriptions of how the government dealt with the traitors, especially the ringleaders. Harry kept going through pages of reports, continually Ctrl-Fing his father's name. Eventually he found him.

On October 31, 1981 James Potter, Sirius Black, and Severus Snape were arrested and accused of being ringleaders in the 1981 Summer Rebellion. A week later, after a private meeting with the Fuhrer, Severus Snape was released and immediately promoted to Minster of Internal Affairs. He pleaded for mercy for his former childhood friends, James Potter and Sirius Black, but his pleas were only marginally heeded.

James Potter and Sirius Black hanged in a public ceremony in front of Buckingham Palace on December 22, 1981. This Fuhrer showed mercy by doing this instead of the normal hanging, drawing, and quartering that is usually given to traitors.

James Potter left behind a wife, Lily Potter, and small son, Harry Potter, that later became part of Severus Snape's family. Today Lily Potter is known as Lily Snape, the world-renowned architect and designer.

Sirius Black left behind a brother, Regulus Black, who is the current Minister of State Security and in charge of the Fuhrer's Guards.

Harry bit his lip in anger at the words he was reading. He didn't know why his Money Memory self had never looked this up before, probably because he'd been unwilling to face the truth in black and white. Angered, Harry shut off his computer and headed to the changing room. While there Harry slipped out of the jeans he wore while shooting and into some sweats. After a quick text to Jones about his plans for the evening Harry headed for the gardens.

He spent the next hour jogging around the gardens and trying to put his thoughts in order while getting control of his emotions. He hadn't felt this out of control of his life since he was sixteen in the Magic Memories and it wasn't a pleasant feeling.

Eventually Harry ended up back in his room. Upon arriving Jones whisked him off into the shower as clothes were laid out for the evening.

Only his Money Memories kept him from being confused by the number of knobs, buttons, and nozzles in the shower. Harry couldn't believe that a shower could be so confusing.

Once he was finely clean Jones helped him get dressed in scarlet dress slacks, an emerald green sports jacket, crisp white shirt, and azure tie. Harry felt like a walking rainbow.

"Is this really necessary?" Harry asked as he survived his overly colorful self in the mirror.

"Of course, sir. You are going to a Workers Club, not a Dole hole-in-the-wall. Your normal jeans and t-shirt would not be acceptable at the Spinning Head." Jones gave Harry's tie one last adjustment as he said this.

Harry slipped on some shiny black ankle boots. "I understand that, but do I really have to look like something out of a druggie's dream to go there?"

"Yes," Jones said firmly before slipping the snitch-shaped cufflinks on Harry's sleeves.

Harry looked at the cufflinks and smiled. Just looking at their familiar shape calmed him. Too bad he didn't have real snitch with him, but he supposed that snitch-shaped cufflinks would do. He still wasn't quite sure why they were shaped like a snitch.

"Well, I suppose I'll deal with looking like this. Don't wait up for me Jones. I'll be sure to lay the clothes neatly across a chair for you to deal with in the morning." Harry gave his appearance one last look over before heading for the door.

"Very good, sir," Jones called out as Harry left the bedroom.

XXX

It took Harry half an hour to get to the Spinning Head. Harry showed his ID card to the bouncer and was let in immediately, which earned angry looks from the people waiting in line. He supposed being the stepson of the Minister of Internal Affairs had some perks.

Upon entering the club he was assailed by the smell of smoke, sweat, and perfume. It honestly didn't smell much different than the places he normally frequented.

What was different was the music.

Instead of the hard and heavy rock music he normally heard coming out of a beat up jukebox there was a live band playing some sort of country-jazz-techno mix.

It made Harry's teeth itch.

Harry looked around the crowded club for Malfoy. There was no point in being here if he couldn't worm himself into Malfoy's good graces.

Halfway across the room Harry felt a light tap on his shoulder. Turning around he found Malfoy, dressed in an outfit just as outrageous as Harry's. Except that it was orange, teal, and hot pink.

Malfoy gave him a cool grin, "Hey! Follow me, we have a cabana over here."

Harry followed Malfoy through the crowded, noisy room to a semi-enclosed space featuring a bouncer and a rather crowded booth.

The bouncer waved them through and the group at the booth grew quiet when Malfoy and Harry arrived.

Malfoy grinned at the people on the booth, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce our newest member of the guard – Harry Potter!"

Harry forced a grin and a wave. He had to maintain the façade of friendliness. He couldn't protect Ginny and possibly help her little rebellion if he ended up out of this job and on the dole.

"Hello!" He said as cheerfully as he could.

Everyone in the booth waved and Harry noticed that several of them looked familiar. He realized why a moment later when Malfoy began introductions.

"Aright Potter, this is Pansy Parkinson," he pointed at the girl in the skanky outfit on the edge of the booth. "And over here we have Blaise Zabini, Angelina Johnson, Victor Krum, Justin Finch-Fletchly, Michael Corner, Cho Chang, Zacharias Smith, and Cormac McLaggan." Malfoy pointed to each person as he said their name.

It was all Harry could do to keep his eyes inside of their sockets and his mouth firmly closed.

Every single one of those people had been with him in his Magic Memories. What were the odds?

Harry's eyes fixed on Cho Chang, the first girl he ever remembered kissing, in any of his memories. Why was she here? Vaguely Harry heard Malfoy ask where someone was, but he couldn't understand him over the horribly grating music.

Then, all of a sudden, the music came to a halt and the crowd grew silent. All eyes were drawn to the quickly clearing dance floor.

As Harry turned to see what was going on he heard Malfoy say, "Ah…There she is. I should've known."

There, standing in the middle of the now empty dance floor, was a pale-haired girl wearing a floor-length black dress that shimmered in the spotlight now aimed at her.

Harry couldn't help it, his jaw dropped; he had never seen Luna look more unearthly.

As he watched he heard a small pipe begin to play. As the very first note hit Luna began to sway. When a fiddle joined in she began to move her arms in slow, swirling motions. When a bagpipe began to weave its sounds into the music she began to move, slowly, carefully.

Harry found himself entranced. Not because he was in love, rather, because he had never seen anything quite like it before.

A slow, deep drum joined the song and Luna's movements became more forceful. Slowly the song began to pick up speed. As it did so Luna's movements increased. Soon she was nothing but a moving, swirling blur across the dance floor.

Once she had reached her maximum speed the crowd began to clap and stomp their feet along with the music. Harry couldn't help but join in, the energy in the club was too infectious.

Taking a moment to look away from Luna, Harry glanced at Malfoy only to see the most unusual expression on his face.

He looked like he was in love.


	21. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry finds himself trapped in a disturbing, if enlightening, nightmare.

Eventually the song came to a close and the horrible, teeth-itching music returned. Luna joined them in the cabana and Malfoy introduced her to Harry.

"Potter, this is Luna Lovegood, the heart of our little group," Malfoy said as Harry and Luna shook hands.

"Nice to meet you," Harry said as calmly as he could. He still couldn't get the image of Luna dancing out of his mind; there had just been something magical about it.

Luna nodded and smiled before turning to address Malfoy's remark, "Nonsense Draco, I'm not the heart, I am merely the one tasked with giving expression to what all of us feel."

Harry watched in shock as Malfoy turned a little red. Had he ever seen Malfoy affected like that before?

"Whatever, you want something to drink?" Malfoy asked in a clear attempt to put some distance between himself and Luna.

"Sure, something minty," she turned and looked at Harry again. "Dancing is such thirsty work, is it not?"

"Uh, yeah," Harry said as Malfoy disappeared past the bouncer and back into the crowd.

Luna gave Harry a dreamy smile, "Did you like my dance?"

"Uh, yeah," Harry said for lack of a better response. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Malfoy was in love with Luna. It just didn't fit his image of Luna as the mother of his niece and Malfoy as the man that killed him in cold blood.

"You should try it sometime yourself then. My father just published an article on how dancing is the best outlet for emotions. It's a wonderful outlet." Luna got a dreamy expression on her face as she said this and began to sway to music only she could hear.

Harry quietly backed up and took a seat next to Cho Chang, who was drunkenly tying cherry stems with her tongue.

When Malfoy returned with a drink Luna took it with a quiet thanks, drank it quickly, and then began to dance slowly around the cabana. Malfoy was watching her the entire time, a haunted expression on his face. Harry's curiosity got the best of him, he approached Malfoy.

"She's an odd one, isn't she?" Harry asked quietly, so only Malfoy could hear.

Malfoy nodded, his gaze never leaving Luna. "Yes, but she's our odd one."

"You wish she was your odd one, don't you?" Harry asked, using one of those random sparks of intuition he got sometimes.

"Yes, but it can never be. We're both destined to be Ministers to the Fuhrer one day and no two Ministers can be in a relationship, it would create too much conflict. So all I can do is watch her and dream of another world." Malfoy turned pink when he realized what he had said.

"Ah," Harry said quietly. He knew exactly how Malfoy felt. All he could do in this world was watch Ginny and remember the other worlds, the ones in which they had been dating or married. The one in which he'd had a little boy with her smile.

All they could do was dream.

XXX

Harry spent the rest of the evening hovering on the outside of this well-established circle of friends, trying to figure out the dynamics of the group while avoiding alcohol like the plague. By the end of the night he was sure that Luna and Malfoy were the true leaders of the group, despite McLaggan and Parkinson's efforts to the contrary. Luna wasn't even the leader intentionally, she just commanded attention. Harry did learn that every single person in this group was in the same position he was in – their mother or father was high up in the Ministry. They had all been forced or persuaded to join the Fuhrer's Guard as they waited for the next change of power and their chance to take their parent's places.

Harry wasn't at all shocked to learn that Luna's father was Minister of Public Relations, in other words – Minister of Propaganda. It fit him and the Quibbler to a T.

Harry finally escaped about midnight, but not without promises to join them the next night so he could tell about his first day on the job.

Upon reaching home Harry headed straight to his room, laid his clothes neatly across a chair, slipped on some pajama bottoms, and crawled into bed.

Despite the exhaustion in his bones it took Harry a little while to fall asleep. He wasn't used to not having Ginny beside him, especially in such a large bed.

Eventually though, sleep did take him. As she welcomed him into her arms Harry couldn't help but smile as he remembered Ginny taking him into her arms.

After falling asleep Harry lay silently in bed for a few minutes, and then he began to move. He moved from side to side, his legs twitching, his fingers wiggling, until the bedsheets were nothing but a sweaty mass tangled around his body.

He was flying on his Firebolt, high above the clouds – nothing below him but big, puffy white clouds; nothing above him but the brilliant sun hanging in the azure sky.

And then they appeared.

An army of dementors came swarming out of the clouds like ants from an anthill. The closer they came the darker the sky grew.

Harry leaned forward and urged his Firebolt to fly faster, but it did no good. It didn't matter how fast he flew, there was no end to the clouds or dementors.

Harry could feel cold sweat breaking out on his face as more and more dementors appeared. The sun no longer warmed him, its light wasn't even visible anymore through the dark clouds that kept creeping closer, ever closer.

He could feel a scream welling up inside his throat as more screams sounded in his head. Desperate, he reached inside his robes to pull out his wand, but instead of grabbing a wand, he found a football. It was old and battered, like the one he had given Ron so many lifetimes ago.

Panicking, he threw it at the closest dementors as he sped ever onwards on his Firebolt. The dementors scattered, leaving a wide open path, Harry shot down, refusing to give into the despair welling up inside him.

It didn't take long for the dementors to regroup. Within minutes they were surrounding him again, Harry tried again for his wand, only to find some sort of needle. Harry didn't even stop to look at it; he threw it ahead of his broom and watched as the dementors skittered out of his way.

When the dementors began closing in on him once again Harry reached inside his robes, but before he could pull it out the dementors let out an unearthly wail and disappeared back through the clouds as quickly as they had appeared.

The sky did not go back to its beautiful shade of blue, instead it grew even darker.

Something even worse than the dementors was behind him, somewhere hidden in the darkness. Harry could sense it, despite his inability to see it.

Harry felt fear try and consume him, but he pushed it back down and refused to give up. Nothing could outrace him when he was on his Firebolt.

As whatever was behind him began to grow closer Harry realized that there was no end to the clouds, so, without a thought, he delved down through the clouds and into the unknown.

Just before the clouds consumed him Harry reached under his robs and pulled out 'The Grindle'. He gave one kick turn and fired it into the darkest bit of space behind him.

He heard something scream and then the clouds consumed him and the world grew completely silent and still.

A moment later his Firebolt and he felt himself falling.

Harry woke up choking back a scream. He was out of bed in a heartbeat and looking himself over.

Fear was clawing at his chest, he knew that the dream hadn't been normal. It had been too real, like his dreams from his fifth year at Hogwarts.

There really had been something chasing him.

Disturbed and unwilling to stay a moment longer in the overly large and opulent bedroom Harry grabbed a blanket out of his chest of drawers and quickly left the room.

He tried to compose himself as he walked silently down the long corridors. As he walked the sweat on his body began to dry, within minutes he was shivering. Harry paused by a large window overlooking the gardens and wrapped the blanket around himself.

The full silver moon was shining down on the gardens, making them look like they were glowing with magic. Harry looked longingly at his "playroom", he couldn't go there. Snape had it locked up from nine to nine in order to stop Harry from spending all of his time there. His mother didn't like it.

Harry couldn't even pick the lock since it was electronic.

Rambling, Harry made his way through the house, eventually coming upon the doorway to Snape's study.

Harry grinned at the thought of ticking off Snape and sleeping on the nice leather couch in there. Cautiously, he pushed open the door to the room. He didn't want to find Snape in there pulling a late night. Finding no one inside Harry went in and gently shut the door as the hall clock struck two.

When Harry's eyes found the couch he felt his eyelids begin to droop. He remembered sleeping on it, his head resting in his mother's lap, as she talked to Snape. He must've been only three or four then. Snape had never complained about that, Harry had sometimes even woken up to find Snape carrying him up to bed. It had only been later, when Harry began looking like his father, that Snape had begun treating him cruelly. Harry was too tired at the moment to think about why that was, he just wanted to sleep.

He sank into the couch, tucked his arm under his head for a pillow, pulled the blanket tighter around himself, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He didn't get to sleep for very long.

Harry was awakened about thirty minutes later by the door to the study slowly creeping open and then slowly snapping shut. He frowned as he listened to soft footsteps move slowly across the carpet, Snape never walked like that.

As Harry listened he heard drawers opening and papers being shuffled around.

Who was in the study and what were they looking for.

Carefully Harry sat up so he could see over the back of the couch. He couldn't help but grin at the sight of the slight, red-haired woman going through his stepfather's desk.

"Looking for something?" Harry asked casually.


	22. Soulfelt Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry does something he has been avoiding for a long time.

Ginny let out a rather peculiar squeak, her eyes widened as she stared at him for a moment, and then she turned and sprinted for the door.

Harry was too quick for her. As soon as she turned to stare at him he had vaulted over the couch. His body in this world continually surprised him. Even shifting through his memories, he couldn't tell why the Money Harry had exercised all day after drinking all night.

Just as Ginny's hand touched the door handle his body pushed into the door, making sure it wouldn't move.

Ginny jumped away from him and the door as her hand slipped inside the pocket of her uniform. Before Harry could even blink he realized that a small little gun, no bigger than Ginny's hand, was pointed at him.

"You should've let me go," Ginny's voice was strained and a little cold as she spoke. "Now I'm going to have to kill you."

Harry's heart gave a lurch. Was that his fate in this world? To be killed by the woman he loved? No, that couldn't be it, it just couldn't be.

The two of them stared at each other, the seconds slowly ticking by. As Harry studied the face of the woman he loved he uncovered a question – why had he never trusted her before?

He hadn't trusted her in the Magic Memories to come along on his hunt for the horcruxes. He hadn't trusted her in his Soccer Memories to know that he had loved her before. He hadn't trusted her in his Police Memories either and she had ended up caught by Greyback. Would things end up badly here also if he didn't trust her?

Harry couldn't take that chance.

"You aren't going to kill me, Ginny. You're not a killer. You may punch me, kick me, curse me, but you won't kill me. You value life too much," Harry said this as calmly as he could.

Ginny's eyes narrowed, "What do you know about me? You ignore me except when you're trying to get up my skirt."

Harry smiled and leaned back against the door, arms crossed, as he did his best to act casual. "Oh, I don't ignore you, granted, I was a dick before yesterday, but I didn't ignore you. You've had plenty of chances to kill me as I sleep, but you never have. I don't think you're going to kill me now."

She stared at him, the gun never wavering, as she waited for him to continue.

"I have a confession to make to you, Ginny. I failed to protect you once. In my mind it was only two days ago, but I'm not sure how long ago it really was. I was so caught up in worrying about protecting Hermione that I didn't do my duty and keep you safe also, so you got kidnapped by Greyback. I'm sorry."

Ginny was looking at him now like he was crazy. "What do you mean I was kidnapped by Greyback? He hung twenty years ago for being a pedophile. Even the government has limits, apparently. And how do you know Hermione? She's never met you."

"Oh, he was? That's good," Harry slid down to the floor so he was sitting. He wanted to look as unthreatening as possible for this next part. "You're going to call me crazy when I say that I've known Hermione since we were eleven, but it's the truth. I've known Ron and the twins that long also. In fact, that's when I first saw you."

"No, that isn't possible; you've never met any of them!" There was a panicked expression on Ginny's face as she spoke.

"Really? Then how do I know that Ron hates corned beef and maroon? Or that Hermione's favorite activity is reading? She's also rather bossy and a bit of a know-it-all, but she's got a good heart. And the twins? Well, they're the tricksters in your family, they have to be with Percy as the next oldest. Someone has to combat Percy's tendency to be a stick in the mud."

The gun slipped out of Ginny's hand and hit the floor with a thunk. A moment later she followed it in a bit more graceful fashion. "How do you know all of that? Has the government been watching us? Are my brothers in danger?"

It took a second for Harry to figure out what she was talking about. He still had to get used to the idea of there being an overly controlling government. "Oh, no, your brothers aren't in danger. And I'll tell you how I know everything if you promise not to ask questions until the end."

She stared at him for a moment, a small frown on her face, and then she nodded. With that nod Harry felt a weight lift off his chest that he hadn't even realized was there. Over the next two hours Harry told her everything. He started with the day he first saw her at the train station and ended with him spying on her in the garden yesterday.

When Harry was done talking the two of them sat in silence for a moment. Finally, Ginny spoke. Her voice was strained and disbelieving. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

A wry smile slipped across Harry's face, "You have a patch of freckles in the shape of a heart on your left hipbone."

Ginny gasped and her hands moved to cover the spot on her left hipbone.

Harry's smile widened, "And you make noises like a cat when we're in bed together."

Ginny gasped again as her face went up in flames.

"Want me to tell you more? I can." Harry said confidently.

"No! That's good! I believe you!" Ginny said quickly, trying to stave off more embarrassing revelations. She stared at him, as they sat there in silence, her brown eyes piercing him. "Why did you tell me all of that? It's not like I can help you stop the world changing."

Harry leaned back against the door and stared up at the intricate paintings on the ceiling. "That's true, I know you can't help, but you're one of my best friends in any world. My times with you have been the happiest, no matter the world. You're my soulmate, no matter what."

"Does this mean you want me to sleep with you?" Ginny asked frankly.

Harry felt his cheeks flush, "No! That's your choice! I just want to protect you and be honest with you."

"Good answer, now, let's get out of here before Snape wakes up."

Harry grabbed his blanket from the couch and followed Ginny out of the room. The two of them walked silently down the corridors until they reached the spot where their paths diverged.

"Good night," Harry said quietly as he looked at her pale face, bathed in moonlight. He really wanted to kiss her.

"Good night, oh, are you really interested in bringing down the Fuhrer?" Her eyes met his as she asked this.

"Yes," Harry said honestly. He wanted nothing more than to kill Voldemort and end this once and for all.

"Good," she smiled at him and then raised herself up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'm glad you aren't a drunkard anymore, I always did have a bit of a crush on you."

Before Harry could respond Ginny was gone. As he continued on his way to his room he couldn't help but think that things were finally beginning to look up.

When he fell into bed he was instantly asleep, the dream forgotten, the only thing on his mind was Ginny and the feel of her lips on his cheek.


	23. A Day on the Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry finds out just exactly what is expected of him, while learning a little bit about his co-worker in the process.

Harry was awakened a few hours later by Jones opening the curtains, letting light stream through the huge windows into his bedroom.

Yawning, Harry sat up and stretched. "Good morning, Jones."

"Good morning, sir." Jones began opening a package containing uniforms for Harry.

As Harry headed for the bathroom he glanced at the clock. It was 6:00am – he'd gotten, maybe, four hours of sleep – today was going to be painful.

Once he had taken care of himself Jones entered to help him put on his new uniform. He took one look at Harry's bloodshot eyes and asked, "Sir, do I need to get Molly's hangover cure for you?"

Harry shook his head, "No, I'm not hungover, I just had trouble sleeping, that's all."

"Ah, well, I think I can get you something to help with that, sir." Jones said as he helped Harry tie the cravat that came with the uniform.

"Really?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Yes, sir. I'll be right back."

While Jones was gone Harry attempted to tidy up his hair some, but it was a hopeless cause. After a few minutes Jones returned with a glass of some green mixture.

Harry frowned slightly as he looked at it, "Jones, it looks the exact same as the hangover cure."

"That's because it's the exact same thing, sir." Jones replied calmly as he handed Harry the glass.

"What is it?" Harry eyed the glass suspiciously, what had he been drinking every morning for the past decade and a half?

"It's a collection of vitamins, nutrients, caffeine, and a cleanser, sir." Jones said in his usual calm manner as he pinned things onto Harry's uniform coat.

Now Harry eyed the glass with true suspicion. A cleanser? Like bleach was a cleanser? "A cleanser?"

Jones looked up from the coat and sighed, "Sir, it's perfectly safe. All the cleanser does is cleanse your body of any toxins. Thus allowing you to live the lifestyle you've been enjoying for the past decade and a half – drinking all night and exercising or playing all day."

"Ah," Harry said rather stupidly. Well, he decided, it hadn't hurt him yet. He pinched his nose shut, tilted his head back, and downed the nasty liquid in one gulp.

Harry put the glass on the counter as he fought back a gag. It was truly vile tasting stuff.

Jones then helped Harry into his coat before slipping the snitch-shaped cufflinks onto his cuffs. Harry stared at the cufflinks for a moment, images of catching real snitches flashing through his head. He was flying high over the Quidditch fields at Hogwarts, soaring and diving on his Firebolt, but then there was a small cough and Harry was back in his opulent bedroom, looking at a confused Jones.

"Sir, are you alright? I've never seen you look quite like that before." There was honest concern in Jones' voice as he spoke.

Harry shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, I'm fine, I'll see you tonight Jones. Bye!" For some unknown reason [,] Harry reached over as he spoke and gave Jones a quick, one-armed hug. "Take care of yourself, Jones."

As Harry left the room Jones stared after him in shock. Once the door was shut he whispered, "Harry, you've really changed." As he whispered this a small, fatherly smile graced his elderly features.

Harry hurried down to the kitchen, where he found Mrs. Weasley humming as she baked something that smelled delicious.

"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley!" Harry called out as he entered the kitchen.

She looked up at him, her face full of surprise, "Good morning, sir."

Harry ambled over to the kitchen table, where Mr. Weasley, Ginny, and a few other servants sat. "Mind if I join you? This looks delicious." Harry eyed the spread of eggs, toast, kippers, bacon, sausage, and muffins hungrily.

Mr. Weasley finally managed to answer, "N-n-no not at all, sir. We're honored."

"Great!" Harry took a seat next to Ginny and a girl that reminded Harry a bit of that horrible waitress from when he met Ron for the first time in the Soccer Memories. Idly he wondered if she was the same girl as he began eating enough food for two people.

When he was done he climbed off the bench, faced Mr. Weasley and gave a short bow. "Thank you for letting me join you, sir." He gave Mrs. Weasley a quick grin and a nod of his head, "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. Your cooking was delicious, like always."

Harry then headed out to the gardens, he need to retrieve the Grindle before Malfoy arrived to pick him up.

As soon as the door to the kitchen shut behind Harry the place erupted.

"Was that really-?"

"Is he on drugs now?"

"He just came in-"

"What gives him the-"

Mrs. Weasley eyed the shouting chaos for a moment before picking up two pans and banging them together.

The noise reverberated through the stone kitchen, making everyone stop shouting and cover their ears. When the noise stopped they all looked a Mrs. Weasley, fear in their eyes.

"Now you listen here, it doesn't matter why he did that! Now sit down and eat! I didn't make all of this food for it to be wasted!" She turned back to the stove in a huff.

Ginny stifled a giggle and Mr. Weasley eyed her suspiciously. "Do you know something about this."

"No, of course not, Dad," Ginny said with a straight face, despite the twinkle in her eyes.

Harry crossed the gardens, retrieved the Grindle, and went to wait in the front parlor for Malfoy to pick him up at seven – not knowing of the chaos he'd left behind in the kitchen.

He didn't have to wait too long. Malfoy arrived and the two of them drove across town to Parliament.

"Alright, Potter. The first thing you and I are going to do is to relieve my father's personal guard. They'll drop him off and they won't leave until we're there. A Minister can never travel without a guard, it just isn't safe."

"Okay," Harry said as he watched the scenery. It looked a lot like the Londons he'd seen, but there were marked differences. The public areas looked even better cared for, while the private areas had the look of a slum.

Apparently letting the Nazis and Voldemort take control was not good for the private sector.

When they arrived at Parliament a valet went to park their car as Harry and Malfoy hurried inside and two a small room off the entryway.

Lucius Malfoy was waiting inside the room with two guards dressed in icy blue uniforms. Mr. Malfoy looked up from his watch as Harry and Draco entered. "You're two minutes late."

Harry watched in amazement as Draco bowed, "Sorry, Father, I had to pick up Potter and did not judge the time properly. It won't happen again."

"Good, now, let's go. I have an important meeting with, Mr. Bludge, the Minister of Finance."

Harry and Draco followed Mr. Malfoy throughout the day and Harry slowly began to realize that being a guard for a Minister was probably one of the most boring jobs in the world. It was no wonder that they went to clubs and partied in the evenings, it was probably the only enjoyment they got out of the day. All they did was follow Mr. Malfoy around and stand behind him as he conducted his business. There was so much security just to get inside the Parliament building that there job was rather superfluous. A monkey could've done this job.

It was a relief when they finally turned over Mr. Malfoy to the two guards in icy blue.

As Harry and Draco waited for the valet to bring the car around Harry found himself asking, "Is it always that boring?"

Draco's eyes grew wide in shock. "Boring? But wasn't it fascinating to listen to Mr. Bludge and Father discussing how to balance the budget? Or watching Father deal with how to convince the rest of the world that everyone is living on milk and honey here?"

Harry couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. Watching Draco talk so excitedly about such things, like how he used to talk about Quidditch or torturing first-years, was hilarious after such a long, boring day.

"Malfoy, you're different, really different."

Draco stared at Harry for a moment, an odd expression on his face. "You're in a much better mood today, aren't you?"

"Yeah, probably because I'm not hungover."

"Ah," Draco said softly as the two of them got into the car and headed off down the road.

The rest of the drive was accomplished in silence as Harry's thoughts drifted towards his plans for the evening. There had been a question niggling at the back of his mind all day and he intended to get an answer for it tonight – How could Ginny have had a crush on him when he was a drunken jerk?


	24. Late Night Raindrops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry and Ginny discuss their feelings and share a romantic few moments under the moonlight.

Raindrops tinkled merrily on the windows as Harry quietly crept down the corridor – he didn't want to run the risk of anyone seeing him slip into the servant's quarters.

Upon reaching the hidden entrance to the servant's wing Harry looked left and right quickly before pushing the concealed button and popping open the doorway. The door looked exactly like the walls on either side of it. It had been designed to hide the servant's quarters from nosy visitors and to protect the servants if something happened. The button was keyed to only open to the thumb prints of those that lived and worked here.

It also just looked nice.

Harry walked through the plain, but comfortable common room that the servants had access to. It contained several computer terminals and a television surrounded by comfy looking couches was in one part of the room. At the moment the room was empty, everyone was still sitting in the kitchen, drinking Mrs. Weasley's tea and gossiping about how Harry was so strangely different today. Luckily for Harry's plans though, Ginny wasn't in there. She'd excused herself and gone to bed early, though Harry couldn't imagine why.

Harry went down a bare corridor and stopped in front of the small door with Ginny's name on it. He stared at it for a moment, nervousness pooling in his stomach.

What if she had changed her mind?

What if she didn't believe him anymore?

What if she wasn't in there?

It took a moment, but Harry eventually convinced himself to ignore his doubts and knocked softly on the wooden door.

As Harry waited he heard things being shuffled around inside the room, as if someone was moving furniture. What was Ginny doing in there?

The door was cracked open and Ginny stuck her head out, surprise crossed her features as she saw him. "Yes?" she asked.

Harry gave a little nervous cough and cleared his throat. "Uh, I, uh," he stared into her dark brown eyes and lost his train of thought. It was as if he was falling in love with her all over again. He gave another little cough and said in a rush, like a nervous adolescent, "I wanted to know if you would come talk with me some more."

She stared at him curiously for a moment before nodding, "All right, let me get my jacket."

She shut the door in his face as she went to get her jacket and when she came back she was careful not to let Harry see inside of her room. He found himself wondering what she was hiding, but decided not to ask, he probably wouldn't get an answer anyway. Still, he filed away the question for later, eventually he would ask her.

The two of them made their way out of the servant's wing without saying a word. As Harry led them down corridors he couldn't forget about Ginny's presence next to him. She was so close, and yet so far. She may've accepted everything he had told her, but she wasn't in love with him, not like he was with her.

As they reached one of the many doors to the garden the rain came to a slow stop. "Mind if we go out here?" Harry asked nervously. Mentally he shook himself, why was he so nervous? Was he afraid to find out how she'd loved a drunkard like him?

"No, not really," Ginny's voice pierced Harry's thoughts and calmed his rolling stomach a little. Her hand brushed his arm as he opened the door for her and, inexplicitly, he felt calmer.

They wandered off into the gardens as silence fell between them like an invisible curtain. The longer the curtain stayed down the faster Harry's nervousness began to return. Honestly, he hadn't felt this nervous since he'd asked Cho Chang out to the Yule Ball.

Every time Harry opened his mouth to speak his tongue dried up and his throat swelled shut. The thought of learning that this Ginny was perhaps mentally unbalanced scared him. Because how else could she have had a crush on his drunken old self?

Ginny was the one to finally break the silence.

"Well, did you want me to just walk with you or did you have something to talk about?" Her voice was a little snippy, and Harry couldn't blame her. They had been walking around the garden in random circles for almost thirty minute now.

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, "Yes, I wanted to ask–" he stopped to take a deep breath –"how could you have had a crush on me?" When she didn't answer immediately Harry rushed onwards, "I mean, I was a drunken jerk. How – How could you have had a crush on that?"

Harry stared at Ginny, trying to read her mind, to know what was going on behind her silent features.

Finally, she made a sound. It was a soft sigh, but in the silence of the garden it could've been a scream. Harry jumped a little.

"That will take some explaining. Can we go sit down? I've been on my feet all day."

"Oh, sure!" Harry looked around until he spotted a gazebo surrounded by some weeping willows. The silence returned as he led her over to it.

Once the two of them were settled onto a bench Ginny began to speak.

"I was five years old when I first saw you, I don't think you remember, but my parents had come here seeking jobs. Your mother was interviewing them and she told my brothers and me that we could go explore the gardens while we waited." Ginny looked off into the distance and smiled softly.

"Bill and Charlie went off to look at the stables; they'd never seen real horses before. Percy pulled a book out of his pocket and settled himself under a tree while the twins went off in search of the kitchens and sustenance. So Ron and I were left to our own devices. We went exploring and eventually we ended up here at the gazebo."

Rain began to fall gently on the roof of the gazebo as she continued to talk.

"Ron and I thought we were in some magical place. We'd never seen anyplace so beautiful, the flowers were just beginning to bloom and the gardens looked like one living rainbow to us – so different from the cobbled courtyard outside of our overcrowded Dole apartment. We were picking a bouquet for Mom when we heard unfamiliar voices approaching. Nervous, we hid in those bushes over there."

She pointed to an overcrowded plot in the garden. She and Ron had to have been pretty small to have hid in there, even thirty years ago.

"The voices ended up belonging to you and Mr. Snape. He was lecturing you about putting frogs in someone's bed and you were trying to look anywhere but at him. The two of you stopped at the gazebo. He continued to lecture and you began to ignore him. He didn't take kindly to that. Eventually he shouted at you and you responded by shouting that he wasn't your real Dad, so he had no right to yell at you."

Dimly, Harry could feel an old memory shift to the surface. He'd noticed that pulling up memories was getting more difficult every day.

"He slapped you then and you feel to the ground in a heap, crying. He said something about him knowing he wasn't your real Dad before storming off. After a minute you stumbled to your feet and ran off. I wanted to run after you and comfort you, even though I didn't know you, but Mom and Dad began calling us, so Ron and I turned our backs on you and went back to the house."

Harry dusted off a memory of him pushing past two older red-haired boys and hiding in an empty stall in the stables. That fight in the garden had been the beginning of Snape's torture of him. Never again after that had Snape ever tried to act like a father to Harry. He couldn't help but wonder why. Had Snape felt guilty about turning on his friend and marrying his widow? Had he taken out that guilt on Harry?

Was that why his childhood had been miserable?

Could it be tied down to that one fight in the garden?

Or had that just been the straw that broke the camel's back?

Ginny didn't know about the questions rolling through Harry's head, "My parents got the jobs and Ron and I immediately wanted to seek you out and be friends with you, but Mom wouldn't allow it. She was afraid that if we approached you, instead of the other way around, we might upset you and find ourselves back on the Dole. That's been her one fear throughout the past three decades – losing her job and reentering the Dole."

"Since you never approached us I contented myself with watching you. First it was because I felt sorry for you, later it was because I thought you were sweet. Like when you snuck that pregnant cat into your room so she wouldn't have her kittens in the freezing barn."

Harry shuddered as that memory surfaced; he'd gotten locked up by Snape for several days because of that incident – although, it had been nice to help the cat and her kittens.

"Slowly, as we grew older, I watched you begin to change. Everytime you came back from Eton you were quieter, more suppressed, you hardly ever argued with Mr. Snape anymore. I wanted to approach you, it was killing me not to, but I didn't want to risk my parents' positions. So my only hope was that you'd notice me, but you never did."

"I'm sorry for that," Harry said softly.

Ginny gave him a wry smile, "It's alright; you had other things on your mind." She sighed deeply and looked up at the rafters. "When I was eighteen I started working as a maid here, but I saw you even less. You were either at school, partying, or hiding in the 'playroom' your mother built you. Yet, I couldn't forget you, no matter how little I saw you. You always looked so sad and a little bit lost."

"From what I can tell, I was lost," Harry whispered.

Ginny just nodded before continuing, "It was only recently, about a year ago, that you noticed me. I couldn't believe it when you spoke to me for the first time, I thought my dreams were finally coming true, that is, until you propositioned me. I watched as my image of you slowly began to tarnish and fall apart. If it wasn't for–"Ginny paused briefly before continuing"–for my family. I would've left after you accosted me two weeks ago."

Harry knew she wasn't going to say "family" to begin with, but he didn't push it. He'd get the truth out of her eventually. If he pushed now he'd just push her away, and he didn't think he could live if he did that.

"I wouldn't have blamed you if you had," Harry said honestly.

The two of them lapsed into silence again, the curtain slowly returning to fall between them, but this time it wasn't quite as thick. As they sat there Harry heard music start up in the distance.

It sounded like someone in the cottages had gotten tired of the silence.

As the music floated through the misting rain Harry got an idea. He grinned as he stood up abruptly and faced Ginny.

She looked at him in surprise as he extended his hand, gave her a bow and spoke.

"Good evening, Miss. Would you do me the honor of granting me this dance?"


	25. Dancing Through Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry proceeds to settle into this new world and gain Ginny's love and trust.

Ginny stared at Harry's hand, confusion filling her face. "Huh? What are you doing?"

Harry had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, "I'm trying to start over." He reached down and picked one of her hands off her lap and brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss. "So, Miss Weasley, will you dance with me?"

Harry watched Ginny swallow before nodding nervously. His shoulders relaxed as he smiled and helped her to her feet.

They stood there for a moment, sheltered under the gazebo from the misting rain. And then they began to dance. At first it could barely be called dancing, more a swaying of the bodies and the shifting of the feet, but slowly it became real dancing. Harry's current body began to remember long forgotten dance lessons from when he was in school.

They started dancing there, protected from the rain, but Harry soon found it to be too cramped, he felt inhibited. So, slowly, they drifted out onto the stone pathways. The rain continued to fall around them as a mist, but as Harry whispered, "I love you," too softly for Ginny to hear the clouds parted a little and the full moon appeared above them.

Harry lost track of time as they continued to dance, but eventually, they stopped and returned to the house. They bid each other goodnight with a soft peck of a kiss and a promise to do it again sometime soon.

Harry fell into bed with a smile on his face and his dreams that night remained free of nightmares.

XXX

The next year passed quickly for Harry. His days were spent following Lucius Malfoy around with Draco and his nights were spent either romancing Ginny or befriending Draco and his little gang.

He rarely ever saw Snape outside of official occasions when Harry was acting as a part of the Fuhrer's Guard. Seeing his mother was rather rare also. She was busy designing a new parliament building in Paris – where the Fuhrer planned to move his government, so it would be more centrally located. The move wasn't planned until Fall 2020, so Lily would be busy for a while.

Like it had happened in the previous two worlds, Harry felt himself beginning to sink into this new world and forget about the past ones. No longer was he a wizard, soccer player, or policeman. He was now Harry Potter, a member of the Fuhrer's Guard, and possibly a future rebel. That is, he'd be a future rebel if he could just get Ginny to admit that she was one.

Even after a year she wouldn't let him even look into her room. They were always in the garden or down at her parent's cottage, eating dinner with them. That had been interesting in a way, the first time he visited the Weasley's Cottage.

Mrs. Weasley had lost her cool when she realized who he was. The image of her dropping a whole stack of dishes and dropping her jaw in disbelief was permanently engraved in Harry's memory. But it had only taken five minutes of watching him for her to return to her normal self and begin mothering him. Harry had felt instantly at home. Mr. Weasley had looked Harry up and down, chuckled at his wife's reaction, and then promptly began to ask Harry questions about what it was like to be in the Fuhrer's Guard and if they got to drive special cars.

Mr. Weasley's passion in this world was cars. New cars. Old cars. Pretty cars. Ugly cars. It didn't matter, as long as it had four wheels and a motor he could talk about it for hours.

That first visit had occurred in July, on Harry's birthday actually, about three months after Harry's arrival in this world.

It was on New Year's Eve that Harry managed to convince Ginny to join him when he went out with Draco and the gang.

That had actually gone fairly well, all things considering.

Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, and Cormac McLaggan had looked at her as if she was something nasty that had attached herself to their shoe. They'd spent the entire evening ignoring her, even going out of their way to pretend that she wasn't there.

Michael Corner and Zacharias Smith had given her looks that made Harry want to punch them. He resisted the urge and instead just glared at them until they looked away.

Justin Finch-Fletchly, Cho Chang, and Victor Krum had smiled and nodded politely at her before going back to enjoying their evening.

Angelina Johnson and Luna Lovegood had taken one look at Ginny, smiled broadly, and accepted her as an equal.

At one point during the evening Harry found himself sitting alone with Draco, Angelina, Luna, and Ginny were off getting drinks and everyone else was dancing.

"So, she's what's had you smiling so much," Draco commented.

Harry grinned, "Yep, that's her. She's amazing."

"Lucky." Bitterness soaked every word that came from Draco's mouth. "I wish Luna was nothing but a servant girl. She'd be good enough for me to marry then, but wouldn't be a danger to the safety of Third Reich."

"You know, sometimes you have to put your happiness first," Harry said softly.

Draco's eyes narrowed and his hand tightened on his drink. "That sounds dangerously close to being treasonous, Potter."

Harry chuckled, "Calm down, Draco. I was just suggesting that one of you give up your future as a Minister if being together is so important to you."

"That isn't possible. We're only children. We have to take our parents' spots."

There was such heartbreak and bitterness in Draco's voice that all Harry could do was whisper softly, "If you say so."

"I do."

The conversation had drifted into less serious matters after that and Harry had never suggested that Draco or Luna give up their careers. Oddly enough, Draco was becoming his friend, and Harry didn't like to hurt his friends.

Draco wasn't a friend like Ron or Hermione had been. In fact, looking at their relationship, some might not even call it friendship. Neither of them would put themselves out for the other nor sacrifice themselves, but, they did trust each other – to a point at least.

Harry's problem was that he couldn't dispel the image of Draco standing over him and pointing a gun at his head. Whenever he felt his friendship with Draco becoming stronger that image would pop into his head and he'd immediately back off, trying to protect himself.

After New Year's Eve Ginny joined Harry more often during his evenings with Draco and the gang, but it wasn't her favorite thing to do. She much preferred it when she and Harry would pack a small picnic and eat dinner under the stars in the garden – no matter the weather.

It was on a cool night in May that Ginny broached a subject she'd been avoiding for over a year. The two of them were sitting on a blanket under their favorite weeping willow and feeding each other little bits of cheesecake.

"Harry," Ginny asked as she gave him another piece of cheesecake, "do you want to meet my family?"

Harry frowned as he chewed the cheesecake. Once he swallowed he answered her. "Meet your family? Haven't I already met them? We just had dinner with them last night."

Ginny shook her head, "No, not my parents, my brothers. Do you want to meet my brothers? Oh, and my nephew."

Harry froze and looked Ginny in the eyes. "You're going to let me meet them? Finally?"

She nodded, "Yes, I know I can trust you now." Her eyes searched his face, "I can, can't I?"

Harry smiled and pulled Ginny into a hug. "Of course you can trust me. I love you. No matter the world, I love you."

Ginny hugged him back. "Good, cause I think I love you too."

At her words Harry hugged her all the tighter. Ginny loved him again. She loved him again, so everything would be all right.

Eventually.

It had to be, that was the only thing he had left to hold on to.


	26. Laughing in Icy Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry has an icy situation that gives way to much fun and merriment.

Harry's palms itched.

In his opinion there was no good reason for them to be itching. He hadn't touched anything that would make them itch and he wasn't about to do something new either. He was just going to see Ron, Hermione, and the other Weasley's again.

That was all.

Just something he'd done countless times before, even though this was the first time in this world.

Harry supposed that he was nervous because of how he was going to meet them this time. At the present time he was blindfolded and seated in the back of a car next to Ginny.

That had been the one condition about meeting her brothers. A condition she'd failed to mention to him until they were walking out the door.

Frankly, he could understand the condition – Ron and the others were wanted by the State. But that didn't mean he liked it. He knew he wasn't going to turn them over to Voldemort and he also knew that Ginny trusted him not to do that, but rules were apparently rules.

"Are we almost there?" Harry asked again, feeling like a little kid stuck in a too long car ride.

"Yes, so just hold on for a bit longer." Ginny's hand squeezed his as she spoke and Harry couldn't help but smile at the feeling.

Having Ginny back in his arms and knowing that she was safe from harm was a constant joy of his. Every time he saw her he couldn't help but whisper a promise to keep her safe, unlike his failure in the Police Memories.

The car came to a stop and Harry heard someone open the door next to him. Before he could even open his mouth and speak a rough hand grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the car.

"Bloody hell! Is that who I think it is?" Harry heard an eerily familiar female voice exclaim.

"Gin, yer brothers ar gonna kill yeh. Or him." This voice Harry recognized instantly – though it had been years since he'd heard it, in this world or any other.

"Hagrid?" Harry couldn't keep the wonder and happiness out of his voice.

"Oy! He members me! Heya, Harry!" Even through the blindfold Harry could tell that Hagrid was grinning.

"Hi, Hagrid. I thought you'd fled to the States. I didn't realize you'd fallen in with the rebels after you were framed." As Harry spoke he was being dragged up some steps and through a doorway.

"I wasn' framed. I got caught sellin' weapons on the black market." The door slammed behind Harry, an instant later the blindfold was yanked off.

Harry blinked as he studied the gloomy entryway. Once he could see his surroundings he felt a weird sense of déjà vu. Why did this place feel so familiar?

"You alright, Harry?"

Harry looked over at Ginny, who was watching him with a worried expression on her face. "Yeah, I'm fine, just a little déjà vu for some reason."

She stared at him in confusion for a moment before a light went off in her head, "Ah, that's odd. I don't think you've ever been here before. Old Grim is a little off the beaten path."

Shock ran through Harry. Old Grim? Did she mean 12 Grimmauld Place? Now that she had brought it up he noticed that it did look a bit like the Grimmauld Place he knew. Except that there was no screaming portrait or troll leg umbrella stand. How was he here? So far it had only existed in his Magic Memories! Or…had it? He knew it hadn't been in his Soccer Memories, he'd looked for it there, but what about his Police Memories? He'd never bothered to look for it there.

"Oy! Let's move it!" This came from the eerily familiar voice as Harry felt someone push him from behind.

Stumbling, he took a few steps forward before looking to see who was pushing him.

His eyes almost fell out of his sockets as his jaw hit the floor.

Standing in the gloomy entryway with bubble gum pink hair and too many piercings to count was Nymphadora Tonks.

"Wot? Never seen a piercin' before?" Tonks voice and stance as she spoke was defensive, as if she expected Harry to attack her for being different. Where was the fun-loving woman he remembered from his Magic Memories?

"Oh, give it a rest Tonks. He's probably just never seen a Crayola color on someone's head before. C'mon, Harry, let's go." Ginny grabbed Harry's hand and began leading him towards the all too familiar kitchen at the back of the house.

Right before she pushed open the door to the kitchen Ginny turned to look at Harry. She stared at him for a moment before taking a deep breath and beginning to speak. "Listen, Harry, my brothers are in there, and, well, they don't know about you yet. And, well, they can be…well, you know how they can be. Just try and stand your ground and don't forget that I'm her for you, ok?"

"Yeah, ok. Hey, can I do something for luck?"

Ginny's head tilted to the side in puzzlement and she nodded.

Then, on a luck granting whim, Harry grabbed Ginny and pulled her into a kiss. He couldn't help it, she'd just looked so cute standing there with her soft brown eyes staring up at him. Unfortunately, it turned out to be the wrong time to kiss her.

The door to the kitchen swung open. "Hey, Gin, did I hear your –" the words ended in a strangled choke.

Startled, Harry broke the kiss with Ginny and looked over to see Ron standing not six inches from him in the open doorway. The look of shock on his face was quickly turning into anger.

For an instant Harry wouldn't to push Ginny away and apologize to Ron. Once he tossed that idea aside he wanted to step back and pull Ginny behind him. Neither of those choices seemed right though. Harry hadn't done anything wrong and Ron wasn't going to get mad at Ginny.

No, if anyone was going to hide behind anyone else then Harry should be hiding behind Ginny. He'd be safe there, but he wasn't one to play it safe.

Harry gave his old friend a grin, knowing it would annoy him, but he couldn't help it. "Hey there, Ron, how you doing?"

Ron's eyes narrowed and Harry had barely an instant's notice before the first punch came right at him. Harry dodged the punch and pushed Ginny towards Hagrid, who was watching the show with Tonks from not too far away.

Harry wasn't able to dodge the second punch. It hit him in the gut and he hit the floor. Ron joined him there an instant later when he lost his footing due to a run in with Harry's legs.

The two of them scuffled around on the floor for a few minutes until someone dumped a bucket of icy water on them.

Ron came up sputtering as Harry tried to hide the laughter bubbling up inside him. He didn't know why, but seeing Ron, in any world, finally get mad at him for dating his sister was just too amusing. Maybe it was because he was finally finding himself able to laugh at the differences between worlds. Or maybe it was just that all the memories inside of his head were slowly driving him insane.

"Why'd you do that!" Ron shouted at the smug looking red-heads in the kitchen doorway.

"I dunno…"

"Why did we do that?"

"You know, I can't think of a good reason."

"Hmm…me either."

"Maybe we could remember if we did it again."

"That might work."

An instant later the twins tossed another bucket of icy water on Harry and Ron. They both lost it. Ron let out a scream of anger and charged the twins, ready to tackle them, while Harry's laughter turned slightly hysterical as Ginny ran over to check on him.

The twins easily sidestepped Ron, letting him charge right past them and into a kitchen cabinet. The clanging from the pots hitting the floor made the whole house ring with noise.

"I think I remembered why we did that…"

"You know…I remembered too..."

"It was-

"-to calm-"

"-him down."

The two of them broke out laughing so hard that they fell to the floor, their laughter mixing with Harry's as Ginny watched with concern. Tonks and Hagrid just grinned and shook their heads as they watched Ron try and untangle himself from the cabinet.

Harry was jarred from his laughter by a sudden slam of a door from upstairs.

He wasn't the only one, the whole room grew silent as someone could be heard stomping down the stairs.

An instant later Harry knew why.

Her hair was in a tangled bun at the base of her neck that only accented the anger on her face and the fire in her eyes.

"HOW DARE YOU MAKE SUCH A RACKET! I told you I was putting David to bed!" Hermione shouted as she continued to stomp down the stairs towards them.

Harry quickly moved out of her way as his eyes caught on the shadow following Hermione. He'd almost missed the little boy. He looked to be about three years old and his head was one big mess of bushy red hair.

As Harry stared at the boy, David he assumed, the boy stared right back at him. Probably because Harry was the only one in the room he had never seen before.

Harry smiled at David as Hermione began chewing out Ron and the twins for causing such a commotion; she seemed to have completely overlooked the other four people in the room.

David crept across the water covered floor until he was directly in front of Harry. "Who you?"

Harry smiled and waved, "I'm Harry, who are you?"

"David."

"It's nice to meet you David."

About this time it seemed to register on Hermione that there were other people in the room. She whipped around, her bun bouncing on her neck, and stared at Harry.

"Who are you and what are you doing with my son?" Her voice wasn't as filled with anger as it had been, but Harry could tell that she was still on the verge of losing it.

Harry stood up carefully and approached Hermione with his soaking wet hand extended. "I'm Harry Potter; it's nice to meet you."

Her eyes widened a little in shock, "Harry Potter?" She looked over at Ginny, her eye brows raised, "What a pleasant surprise, I'm Hermione Weasley."

As they shook hands Harry heard Ron yell out, "Get away from my wife you drunken womanizer!"

Harry flashed Ginny a twinkling grin before pulling Hermione towards him, so that Ron ran right past and crashed into Tonks.

Hermione stared at Ron and Tonks as they untangled themselves. "Ron, whatever are you doing?"

"Trying to kill that bloody–"

"Oh, shut up, Ron. You can beat my boyfriend up later – AFTER I introduce him to all of you." Ginny commanded as she pulled Harry away from Hermione and into the kitchen.

Harry couldn't stop the grin that etched itself into his face.

He'd forgotten how much fun his friends were. Now, if he'd only have a bit more time with them before he switched memories again he would be happy.


	27. The Vote

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry finds out if he is able to (re)join the Order.

"I still don't want him here," Ron grumbled for the umpteenth time as he sent Harry a dirty look from his spot down the table.

"Ron, I really don't care," Ginny's voice was becoming more impatient with each repetition of these words.

It was all Harry could do not to break out laughing at them. They'd been at it like this since Ron came back from putting David to bed and changing clothes – he'd never offered to get Harry some dry clothes – and Harry suspected they'd be at it even if he wasn't there. The relationship between the two of them was a lot closer, if a lot more abrasive, than any of their previous relationships.

"This is interestin' and all, but where's the others at?" Tonks grumbled from her spot at the end of the table.

She looked extremely annoyed and rather dangerous too. Something about a woman with bubble gum pink hair cleaning an AK-47 sent a shiver down Harry's spine.

"Fleur called, she said they're on their way," Hermione said this as she bustled around the kitchen, pulling out materials to make a late night meal.

Her movements reminded Harry of Mrs. Weasley. Even the glares she kept sending at Ron reminded him of Mrs. Weasley. This Hermione was a far cry from the paraplegic writer he encountered in his Soccer Memories or the Prime Minister's wife in his Police Memories.

The room lapsed into silence and Harry continued to study his old friends as Ron shot daggers at his and Ginny's intertwined hand. She was so mature and confident. Quite unlike the little girl that lost her cool when faced with devil's snare and a lack of wood. Harry found himself wondering what had made her so mature in this world and pushed her into the rebellion. Had she lost her family to the Fuhrer? Or was it something else?

For a little while the only sound in the kitchen was from Hermione moving bowls around as she began to dish up some stew. Harry lost himself in comparisons of the people in front of him and the versions of them that he had met before. He was finally dragged back to the present when Hermione put a bowl of stew in front of him. He wasn't really hungry, he had eaten before he let Ginny blindfold him, but he was too polite to say anything.

The silence in the room was quickly becoming uncomfortable. Looking over Harry saw that the twins had their heads together – probably figuring out some other way to torture Ron. Harry didn't think that was a very good idea. In the mood Ron was in he might hurt someone if he got any more upset, so Harry broke the silence, hoping it would end any plans of the twins.

"So…When are you planning to make your big move against the Fuhrer?"

There was a thump from Ron's spot as he slammed his spoon onto the table. "And why do you want to know?" he asked suspiciously.

Harry shrugged cautiously as he realized that every eye in the room was focused in on him. "Because I want in on it," he stated carefully.

Harry could visibly feel the stunned silence as it swept across the room, like a ripple across the water. The twins' jaws had dropped to the floor, joining Hermione and Ron's. Tonks was looking at him like he was crazy. Ginny was giving him a look that somehow combined disbelief and understanding. Harry figured that she was thinking back on what he'd told him about the other worlds.

Hagrid's expression was one of surprise that slowly turned into a grin. The grin spilled over into a chuckle. Everyone turned to stare at Hagrid as the chuckle bloomed into a full, table-thumping, laugh.

"Jest like yeh, Harry! Sayin' crazy stuff an' meanin' every word!" Hagrid said when he caught his breath.

Hagrid's words opened a floodgate. Everyone began talking at once, asking him question after question that he couldn't even understand because they were all so interwoven together.

No one noticed when the kitchen door to the courtyard opened up and some people in dark trench coats walked in. That is, no one noticed except Tonks.

As the door opened she spun out of her chair, raised her AK-47 and shouted, "FREEZE!"

The room grew instantly quiet as the people in the doorway stopped where they were. Harry couldn't see their faces, they had various hats or hoods pulled down over their heads.

"A white bumblebee-" Tonks started.

"-flies 'igh under ze full moon." The shortest stranger said with a strong French accent.

Tonks immediately stepped back and lowered her rifle as the four strangers finished coming inside and began pulling off jackets, wigs, and hats. From under all the clothes came Fleur, Bill, Charlie, and Mad-Eye Moody. Since there was a Weasley missing Harry figured that Percy was just as out of the loop in this world as he was in the Magic Memories.

"Well, how'd it go?" Ron asked, finally aiming his full attention at someone other than Harry or Ginny.

"Ugh, don't ask," Bill said in disgust as he took a seat and pulled Fleur down next to him. The two of them quickly dug into the stew Hermione placed in front of them.

"That bad?" Ginny asked.

Charlie nodded as he dug into his own bowl of stew. "Yeah, the warehouse was empty."

"WHAT! But…but my information was rock solid!" Ron exclaimed, disbelief written across his face.

"Hmph, I'd say it was more like mud then rock," Moody grumbled as he stomped over to a chair.

He looked virtually the same as the man Harry had known in the Magic Memories, except for his eye. His magical eye was no one that was clearly electronic, Harry couldn't stop himself from staring at the red light emitting from it. He had read about the electronic eyes, but he'd never met anyone that needed one before.

"Ze guns were gone and I broke a nail. What a disaster," Fleur groused.

Harry lost track of the conversation after that. There was something entrancing about watching Moody's electronic eye move around in it's socket.

"Eh, boy, if you like my eye that much I can give it to you," Moody chuckled humorlessly. "You just have to give me one of yours in return."

Harry started, realizing he'd been caught staring. "Er, um, no thanks. I like my eyes where they are."

"Hmph, you sure? I think I'd look pretty good with an emerald eye."

"You know, Moody, I think you're right," Fred said as he and George studied Moody.

"Of course he's right. Potter, we can go get our tool kit right now if you'd like. It will only take an hour or so for us to install it. What do you say?" George asked.

"Er…." Harry got out.

"Can it you two. I like Harry's eyes exactly where they are." Ginny muttered as she sent the two of them a dirty look.

"Ouch, the kitten has claws!" Fred exclaimed, holding his hand and pretending it was injured.

"Really? I never would've thought that!" George added.

"Idiots," Ginny grumbled as the twins grinned at her mischievously.

"We resent–"

BANG!

Harry and everyone else jumped and looked over at Hermione, who was standing at the end of the table, frying pan in hand, and looking furious.

"Are all of you done acting like children?" She seemed to be addressing everyone with this answer, but Harry could tell she didn't really want an answer.

He saw Ron open his mouth to reply and instinctively kicked him under the table. Ron should've known by then that you don't mess with a furious Hermione. Ron jumped and glared at Ginny, who gave him a look that said clearly, "What the hell do you want?"

Ron rolled his eyes, grunted, and turned his attention back to Hermione. This time with his mouth safely closed.

It was all Harry could do to not break out laughing at the exchange. He hadn't meant to kick Ron, it had been instinct, and if Ron had known who really kicked him – things wouldn't have gone well.

"Good, I'm glad you're all done. Now, first order of business: Ginny has requested that her friend, Harry Potter, be allowed to join the Order of Wiedergeboren. He claims that he wants to help take down the Fuhrer, like we do. He's here to plead his case, then we'll vote on whether he can stay or not. Is that clear?" Hermione glared around the table, as if daring anyone to disagree with her – no one did.

"Alright, Mr. Potter, please tell us why you want to join." Hermione took a seat, but her hand remained resting dangerously on the frying pan.

Every eye in the room was aimed at him, even Moody's electronic one. It was rather nerve-wracking Harry thought as he stood up and cleared his throat. "Um, well, I suppose my reasons for going against the Fuhrer are rather personal. As most of you know – my father was executed almost four decades ago for treason. Then his friend, my stepfather, Severus Snape, married my mother after pledging allegiance to the Fuhrer." Harry stopped to take a deep breath as he felt Ginny reach up and squeeze his hand.

He'd told her about Snape's treatment of him in this world and how much more it hurt, because he knew Snape wasn't truly an evil person, not deep down.

"What most of you don't know is that from the age of seven or so he began to torture me. My mother never knew about this, he was careful to never do it in a way that would show or when she was around. Due to his treatment of me I was ostracized throughout my childhood and young adult life. I never had a friend, until I met Hagrid. Then, when I was forced to leave him behind I had no one but a bottle. It wasn't until about a year ago that I woke up one morning and realized that I didn't have to let a treasonous, back-stabbing, wife-stealing, slimeball take my life from me." Harry leveled his hardest, coldest stare at the people in the room.

"I hate him. I hate him for what he did to me, to my family, and to the rebellion. I want to get my revenge on him and on the Fuhrer. He signed my father's death sentence then lied to my mother and tricked her into marrying him." Harry's voice slowly began to rise, "He didn't even give her time to mourn! He tricked her and then proceeded to steal my childhood from me! And the Fuhrer's rewarded him for being a disgusting slimeball! I want him dead! And I will do anything to see that happen." Harry stopped, panting, as he stared blindly around the dingy kitchen.

"So," Harry gripped Ginny's hand tighter, "will you let me join you?"

The room was quiet for a full minute as everyone soaked in Harry's words. Then Hermione spoke quietly, "Ginny, you're sponsoring him, anything to add?"

"Yes," Ginny said softly as she stood up next to Harry, never letting go of his hand. She looked around the room, being sure to make eye contact with each of her brothers. "I just want to say that this Harry is different than the one we grew up with. He's changed. He really has." She gave Ron a pointed look before going up on tiptoe and kissing Harry on the cheek. "That's all."

The two of them sat down as Hermione stood up and looked around the room. "Alright, voting time," she pulled out a pad of paper and a pencil. "Say for or against when I call your name. The question is: Should Harry Potter join the Order of Rebirth? Hagrid?"

"For."

"Tonks?"

"For."

"Fred?"

"Against."

"George?"

"Against."

"Moody?"

"Against."

"Bill?"

"For."

"Fleur?"

"For."

"Charlie?"

"For."

"Ron?"

"Against!"

"Ginny?"

"For, of course."

Hermione leveled a stare at Ginny, who just shrugged and leaned back in her chair.

"Alright, and my own vote is for. Ron, don't give me that look, I think he'd be useful to the Order, whatever your personal feelings are. That makes…" Hermione counted, "Four against and seven for. It passes, Mr. Potter, welcome to the Order of Wiedergeboren. I need you to sign this." She pulled out a folder from somewhere and extracted a document. She passed it to him with a pen.

Harry looked it over, it was a document saying he had willingly joined the Order of Wiedergeboren and that they were all in this together.

Without another thought he signed it. If the Order went down, he'd go down with it. He'd sacrifice himself in a heartbeat if it would save just one person's life.

Hermione took the paper once he was done signing it. "Alright, now that that's settled – next order of business: We need access to weapons, and lots of them if we're going to start our training program. Any ideas on where we're going to get them?"

Harry found himself grinning, weapons? He could handle that. As part of the Fuhrer's Guard he had access to all sorts of information that could help get them weapons.

"I think I can help you with that…"


	28. Spinning Heads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry plays recruitment officer and heads get read to start rolling.

"Boy, did you get the charges set?"

Harry gave Moody a sharp nod, "Are the weapons loaded?"

Moody gave a grunt that Harry assumed was an affirmative – you never could tell with Moody. "Good, you see anyone moving around in the building? I don't want to add murder to my list of crimes."

There was a small whirring noise as Moody's electric eye searched the building for heat signatures. After a moment he stopped looking and moved quietly towards the entrance. "I only see a redheaded weasel in the security room. Want to go get Ronald? I'll get the engines started."

"Sounds good," Harry moved quickly out of the storeroom and down the hall as Moody headed for the truck.

It was hard to believe that this was Harry's thirtieth weapons run in three years. How time flew by. It seemed like just yesterday that he'd given them information on a weapons stash and been forced to wait in the truck as Ron held a gun on him while the others grabbed the weapons and set the charges.

They always blew up the warehouse they took the weapons from – it stopped the Fuhrer from getting DNA evidence on them.

Cautiously Harry swung the door to the security room open and froze. Ron was ready and waiting with gun pointed at Harry's chest.

"Oh, it's you. We ready?"

"Yes."

"Kay, we've got ninety seconds before the cameras come back online. Then–"

"I know, let them run for a minute and blow up the charges." Harry rolled his eyes, "I've done this before, Ron."

Ron shot Harry a glare before muttering something nasty under his breath and turning back to the computer system. Ten seconds later he was peeling for the truck, Harry hot on his heels.

They jumped into the truck and Moody sped towards the gate in the fence surrounding the warehouse. The twins had stacked all of the unconscious security guards in their little building by the gate, well out of range of the upcoming explosion. They stopped there for thirty seconds so the twins could throw themselves in the back of truck. Harry slammed the back closed and locked it before jumping back in the front next to Ron.

As they were turning onto the street, just out of view of the gate cameras, Ron's watch beeped, letting them know security was back online.

Harry pulled out his igniter and flipped the top. His thumb hovered over it, waiting for Ron's go ahead. Ron was staring intently at his watch, counting the seconds.

"Go!"

Harry's thumb descended and hit the button. An instant later there was a huge explosion behind them, smoke and flames rising above the buildings.

"Well, I think that went well," Ron said with a cheerful grin and smile as he watched the explosion in the side mirror.

"Don't jinx us. Everything can still go wrong," Moody grumbled.

"You're a spoilsport, that went beautifully," one of the twins said through the small window to the back of the truck.

"Yep, like always, they'll never know what hit them," the other twin added.

Ron snickered, "Just wait till Sunday; they'll really never know what hit them."

"I daresay our little brother speaks the truth. Don't you think so, Harry?"

Harry didn't say anything. He was too busy changing out of his soot covered black clothes and into the designer outfit that Jones had picked for him to wear to the club that evening. He was supposed to meet the gang at eleven and it was already past ten-thirty.

Ron scowled as he watched Harry change in the crowded cab. "Are you really going to go meet with those spoiled rich brats? They'll be dead in a few days."

Harry stopped buttoning up his shirt and shot Ron a glare. "Shut up, Ron. Most of them are good people and I'm sure they'll pick the right side once they have a choice."

"You're an idiot to think a snake will change its pattern."

"And you're an idiot for mistaking lions for snakes." Harry bit back.

He had tried, for the past three years, to befriend Ron, but all he had managed was to stop Ron's death threats. Ron just didn't want to see him as anything other than an enemy, and this tore Harry to shreds inside everytime he thought about it.

At least the twins had come around to his side once they realized that he genuinely cared for Ginny. They had only voted against him at that first meeting for fear of him hurting Ginny again – plus some promise they made with Ron to beat him up in a dark alley. Harry found himself glad they'd chosen not to fulfill that promise.

Moody dropped Harry off on a deserted side street. As the truck drove off a slick red Ferrari pulled up and Harry got in, giving Ginny a kiss as he did so.

"Everything go well?" she asked when they broke apart.

"Perfectly, now, let's go do some recruiting."

The two of them arrived at the club a quarter of an hour later. With the casual air of practice Ginny tossed the keys at the valet and Harry was struck by how much things had changed.

When he'd first taken her out to meet the gang she'd been rather shy and nervous. But now she exuded a confidence that made almost every male around turn to look at her. A glare had become one of Harry's main expressions when Ginny was around. It came in rather handy when someone tried to approach her.

Like right now.

Harry slipped his arm around Ginny's tiny waist and glared at the gaudy peacock that had begun to approach them.

By the time they crossed the dance floor and reached the gang in their normal bouncer guarded booth he had glared off no more than ten peacocks and one slinky red dressed woman. The Spinning Head was becoming more dangerous than his missions with the Order of Wiedergeboren.

That was soon going to change, hopefully.

"Harry! Ginny! You made it!" Draco shouted when he saw them approach.

Harry couldn't help but grin as he replied, "Of course we did! We couldn't leave you hanging!"

Draco grinned right back and within a minute Harry and Ginny were safely ensconced in the booth with the gang.

Things had changed a bit since Harry had first sat in this booth with these people.

Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini had been appointed to a branch of the Fuhrer's Guard serving ambassadors. They were currently in Japan, the Third Reich's closest ally.

Victor Krum and Cho Chang had been selected to head up a training camp in Austria. They had been there for almost a year now and there were rumors floating back that the two of them were doing some horizontal training not involved with the camp.

Zacharias Smith's mother had chosen an early retirement due to her health, so he was now Minister of Transportation. Because of this and all of his duties they almost never say him anymore.

Cormac McLaggan was currently suspended and under house arrest due to picking a fight with his commander. He apparently had issues with following orders. For some reason Harry wasn't surprised about that.

So now their gang was only comprised of Angelina Johnson, Michael Corner, Justin Finch-Fletchly, Luna Lovegood, and Draco Malfoy. The table looked a lot emptier, which suited Harry's purposes just fine.

"How was dinner with your parents?" Luna asked as Draco disappeared to order another round of drinks.

"Lovely, Mum made shepherd's pie." Ginny answered with a smile.

"Oooh, I haven't had that in YEARS," Michael lamented.

The talk dropped into trivialities and Harry sat back, letting the others talk while he thought. This was their last night to all be together before Sunday. If he wanted to make sure that his friends were safe he'd have to move fast and broach the subject tonight.

He just had to wait for the right opening.

Luckily, he didn't have to wait long.

It was about an hour later that Draco looked at his phone and sneered in disgust. "I can't believe it! They're going to ruin this country before we even get a chance to touch it!"

Angelina frowned, "What did they do now?"

"Are they raising the price of bread and dropping the Dole again?" Luna sounded worried and Harry couldn't blame her. Her father was in charge of making bad things like that sound good, which was getting increasingly difficult.

"No, worse. Because of a perceived threat from Russia they're invoking the draft and putting a freeze on all non-military government spending." Draco slammed his phone down on the table, making the screen flicker. "Luna, I don't know how your father's going to put a positive spin on this. I don't think anyone can. The Doles are going to kill us all when they realize they won't be able to eat next month."

Harry leaned over and picked up Draco's phone. He was on the private government newsfeed. All court documents were posted on it and could only be accessed by a password given to a select number of government employees. Harry wasn't quite that trusted, his phone only gave him access to news that had already gone through Minister Lovegood's office.

"What–What would you do if you could stop this?" Harry asked softly, barely audible to the others above the teeth-itching music.

The others frowned.

"What do you mean do something about this?" Justin asked curiously.

"I mean, stop this freeze. Stop all of it." Harry looked around the table, meeting everyone's eyes, even Ginny's.

Draco's eyes widened, "You mean…"

"Yes, make the transition happen a little early."

"But-but, that's treasonous!" Michael hissed.

"No, not really. Remember Grindelwald's slogan?"

Angelina gasped her hand flying over her mouth, "For the greater good!"

"Yes! And is the current Fuhrer doing that?" Harry asked quietly.

"No, no he's not," Justin answered.

There was silence for a few minutes as everyone soaked in what Harry was implying. Harry had noticed all of them slowly begin to doubt the way the government was run. None of them were getting any younger, most of them were almost forty, if not past forty. Even Draco had begun to have doubts. Every time a law was passed or a decision made he was sure he could do better. And now Harry was going to take advantage of that.

It was Draco who finally broke the silence.

"And just who would be the Fuhrer if this change were to occur?"

"Anyone but me," Harry said calmly.

Draco grinned, "Well then, how about we go discuss this somewhere else and discuss this change?"

Half an hour later Harry found himself back in his "playroom" with Ginny, Draco, Luna, Justin, Michael, and Angelia. The seven of them were seated around his table, drinking tea, and quietly discussing the plan for Sunday.

"So, now that we've signed," Draco pushed the document they'd all signed towards Ginny, "what do we have to do?"

Harry pulled out a map of Parliament and began indicating what everyone was supposed to do. They'd all be quickly securing their charges when he sent a message to their phones. Harry trusted them, but not enough to let them know the exact timeline. He even vaguely hinted that this wouldn't happen for a couple of months, at the earliest. They also knew nothing about anyone else in the Order, or what the rebels called themselves - everyone was safer that way.

Once the charges were secured Angelina, Michael, and Justin would converge on the security room and take it over. From there they could disable the main alarm system.

While this was going on Luna and Draco would be slipping down to the basement to shut off all of the electricity.

Harry would be meeting the rebels at the sewer entrance and leading them into the building. Sunday was the perfect day to strike – the Fuhrer was due to address the nation at half past noon to make a big announcement. When the Order had picked the date they hadn't known what was to be announced, but now that they did, Harry couldn't help but find it rather fitting.

When better to take down the leader of the conquered world then when he was about to reinstate the draft and conquer more of the world?


	29. Visitors from the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry uncovers a lot of this world's secrets.

The house was dark and silent as Harry made his way to his room. It was all he could do to not break into a jog. His nerves were on edge.

Tomorrow was Sunday.

The big day.

The chance for him to end it all.

And that thought terrified him.

He wanted to end the world changing, but he wasn't sure what would happen to him if he did.

Would he suddenly wake up back in the Forbidden Forest? Or would be lying on the church floor? Or even on a bombed out street? Would he still be here – in this world? What would happen?

He didn't know.

And the not knowing was what terrified time.

He knew he could handle any of those possibilities, he just wished he knew what the most likely possibility was.

Harry turned another corner and almost crashed right into Snape.

"Oh, sorry, sir," Harry said as politely as possible.

Snape grabbed onto Harry's shoulders and looked him over, from head to toe. He seemed to be weighing his words.

Harry's heart stopped in his throat. He'd never seen this Snape look at him like this before. Did he know something?

"Going somewhere, Potter?" Snape's voice was high and cold, a sneer engrained in it.

"Just going to bed, sir."

"That can wait, come with me."

Snape moved past Harry and began striding down the hall towards his office. Harry watched his stepfather for a moment before realizing that his only choice was to follow.

It would be a bad idea to kick off the revolution too early.

Snape led Harry down a couple hallways and into a small, serviceable office that Harry had never been in before.

This was Snape's personal office; he held the only key to it.

Snape locked the door behind Harry and proceeded to take a seat behind the desk. Harry continued to stand by the door, unmoving. What did Snape want? Did he somehow know about the revolution? Were, even now, guards on the way to arrest him?

"Well, Potter, are you going to take a seat?"

"Oh, um, sure." Harry took a seat in the straight-backed chair across the desk from Snape.

The two men observed each other for a few minutes as the silence slowly became thick enough to slice. Harry was determined not to be the first to speak. It had been Snape who had wanted to have this talk, so it would be Snape that was going to talk first.

After an indeterminable amount of time Snape's eyebrow rose. "Apparently that technique doesn't work on you anymore. Funny, you used to cave after only a minute."

"I'm not the same little boy I was back then."

"I know."

The two of them calmly observed each other for another few seconds.

"Well, Harry, I wanted to discuss what happened last night."

"Last night?" Harry's insides clenched in fear as he forced a confused frown onto his face. Did Snape know about the meeting in the "playroom"?

"Yes, last night." Snape chuckled, "No need to look confused, Potter. I know about your little rebellion."

Harry crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, "What rebellion?"

"Why, the one you're planning to throw."

"Oh? And when am I supposed to be throwing this rebellion?"

"Well, from what you said last night it sounds like it's going to be in the next couple of months. But, something tells me that you plan to move much earlier than that. Perhaps tomorrow?"

"You honestly think I could plan and throw a rebellion in two days? You give me too much credit, sir."

"Oh, Potter, I think my problem is the other way around – I never gave you enough credit."

Harry shrugged, "I wasn't really deserving of credit before four years ago."

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Snape's gaze moved over Harry's features, as if trying to memorize them.

"Is there something else, sir? I really should be getting to bed, I have work in the morning."

"Yes, there are a couple more things. One, I want you to know that I don't plan to stop your little rebellion."

It took all of Harry's strength to not say "You won't?" Snape didn't appear to notice the shock on Harry's face, he just kept talking.

"I'll explain why in a few minutes. I do have a good reason. I want to know, if I was going to take your mother out of the country on a trip to celebrate our anniversary, when would be the best time?"

It took Harry a second to process Snape's question.

Snape wanted to take Lily away from any danger the rebellion might cause. Something inside Harry softened at this thought. It was true, no matter Snape's faults, he really did love Lily.

"I'd suggest whisking her away in the morning."

"Really?"

"Yes, the weather is supposed to be amazing in Jamaica at this time of year."

"I do believe you're right. We'll leave in the morning." Snape stood up and brushed some imaginary lint off of his shoulder. "Try not to burn the house down when we're gone."

Harry stood up, "Don't worry, sir, I won't."

"Good," Snape reached into a desk drawer and pulled out something that glinted in the artificial light of the office. He stared at it for a moment and then sighed and handed it to Harry.

Harry took it. The object was a chunky gold ring with a dark glass-like stone set into it. He stared at it for a moment and then looked up at Snape, confusion written across his face.

"Just put it on your finger when you're alone and whisper your full name to it. Goodnight, Potter."

"Goodnight, sir." Harry said absently as he continued to stare at the ring. Dimly he heard Snape unlock the door and leave.

Was the ring some sort of device to kill him?

Would it make him traceable?

Was it some sort of recording device? So the Fuhrer could spy on him?

Why did he have to put it on alone?

These questions kept running through his mind as he made his way up to his bedroom and let Jones help him get ready for bed. Once he was alone and in bed he slipped the ring on his finger and whispered "Harry James Potter."

Slowly, the stone began to glow. After a minute miniature Snape was projected off the ring. It did nothing for a moment and Harry marveled at how precise and intricate it was. Then it began to talk.

"Harry Potter, I want to start this off with an apology. An apology I was never able to utter in front of you. I'm sorry for the hell I put you through all these years, despite the fact that it was necessary. Since you're listening to this I can assume that you let me know when the rebellion is and I'm currently making plans to take your mother out of the country."

Harry rolled his eyes, was he that predictable to Snape?

"I want you to know that we won't be coming back. If the rebellion succeeds we won't be accepted by the new regime due to all of our work for the Fuhrer. If the rebellion fails than we will be held under suspicion for having left the country when we did. So, please, come say goodbye to your mother in the morning, before you leave for work."

Harry was going to be sure to do that.

"Now that that's over with, I suppose it's time for me to tell you why the hell I put you through was necessary." The little Snape took a deep breath. "When you were six years old the Fuhrer pulled me aside and asked me how I could be so nice to a little boy that was beginning to look like a carbon copy of the man whose wife I had stolen."

Now that Harry thought about it, that was a good question. Harry had looked a lot like his father since he had been about four.

"He asked this with suspicion, and so, you mother and I had a talk to discuss how to quell the Fuhrer's fears and keep you safe. We decided that the best way to do this was to make me slowly become colder to you as you grew older. This would explain why I treated you well to begin with. Your mother knew about every punishment I gave you, and it tore her apart inside. Every night she had to tell herself that it was done so that you could live."

"I want to add one more thing – I wasn't supposed to be the turncoat." The little Snape's face grew sad. "Your father was supposed to be the turncoat if the rebellion failed. He was the one with a wife and a child. Sirius and I were bachelors. The Fuhrer wouldn't believe that your father would turn on the rebellion. He knew that your father had been the true leader, not Sirius."

Wait – Harry blinked in shock – his father had been the leader?

"That night, after your father was thrown back in with us, he picked me to try and defect next. He knew that I loved your mother and would do anything to protect her and any part of her. Sirius agreed with this decision, he realized that he and Lily fought too much for her to marry him. Because that's what the survivor had to do, they had to marry Lily and protect her child."

The little Snape grew quiet for a moment, when it spoke again it's voice sounded choked – as if it was about to cry. "I-I think that's all. The other recordings on here will tell you the rest. If not, I'm sorry, I can't say any more."

The figure of Snape disappeared, but the rock continued to glow. After a moment the form of Harry's mother, Lily, appeared with a hesitant smile on her face.

"Hello, Harry. I'm sure whatever Severus is going – I mean already said has confused you some. Hopefully I can clear some of that up. I want you to know that whatever he's said has been true – I trust Severus with my life."

Funny, Harry wasn't sure if he trusted Severus with his life.

"I, of all people, know how hard it is for you to trust and believe what he said. I know I called him a bloody traitor and wanted to kill him for about a year after he pulled the turncoat stunt. It wasn't until he cornered me and made me listen to the message James left on here for me that I learned the truth. Severus went to visit them on the day before the hanging – that's when he got these recordings done. Your father's about to come on and I think his message explains why we started the rebellion; I hope it helps you make the right choices in the future. Goodbye, my son. I love you."

Lily disappeared and a moment later a man that Harry knew to be his father appeared. James looked haggard and tired in a prison uniform.

"Hello, Harry. I'm your father. I suppose you want to know why we started this rebellion. I'm sure, if you're in a rebellion right now, you have your own reasons. Our reasons were rather personal and simple – Revenge. Severus and I grew up in the slums – on the Dole. Sirius belonged to a wealthy and powerful family, but he kept running off to play with us – he had family issues."

From off the screen Harry heard someone say, "I heard that."

The little James let out a dry chuckle, "I'm sure you did. Now, when we were growing up we had another friend – Remus – who was also on the Dole."

Wait, Harry frowned, Remus Lupin?

"When we were about fifteen Remus went to get a standard immunization. Six months later he get us state-required checkup and it was found that he was HIV positive. Before any of us could say goodbye he was rushed off to a 'hospital' so he could be cured." James' face grew angry, "He never came back. The three of us ended up joining the Fuhrer's Guard. Sirius got Severus and me jobs there using his connections. After some digging we discovered why Remus never came back – he was processed."

Processed? That didn't sound good.

"Apparently there was no cure for being HIV positive. They would just send everyone that became that to a camp and then work them to death. We don't know if Remus is still at the camp or if he gained AIDS and died. And so that's why we started the rebellion – to end the oppression and gain revenge for our lost friend."

Harry watched as little James' fists clenched and unclenched.

"I-I think I'm done now Harry. I just wanted you to know the truth. I hope your reasons are as good, if not better, than ours. Oh, and I want you to trust Severus. He can be a bit of jerk sometimes, but he's got a heart of gold." James looked up, right into Harry's eyes, as if the time and distance between the two of them was gone, "Goodbye, Harry. I love you more than anything."

James disappeared and for a moment Harry thought it was over, but then Sirius appeared. He looked quite a bit like the Sirius Harry had first met in the Shrieking Shack – just ten years younger.

"Hey there, Harry. I'm sure James will have lots of important and serious stuff to say to you in a minute, but I wanted to get a word in first. Or maybe afterwards, I'm not sure how playback works on this thing. Now, listen hard." Sirius stared at Harry very seriously. "My brother, Regulus, may be a Minister already, but he isn't as loyal as he seems. I don't know what year it is for you now, but, if he still has a job I want you to contact him."

Wait, contact Regulus Black? In a weird way Harry supposed that was a good idea. After all, he had turned on Voldemort in his Magic Memories.

"He's in charge of State Security and knows lots of little ways to do useful things. He was instrumental in our plan until we got caught, but he was enough out of the loop that he was safe from the fall. Now, go save the world." Sirius grinned broadly before he too disappeared.

The stone in the ring slowly faded back to it's original color.

Harry stared at the ring, his thoughts swirling and his ears ringing as he was overloaded with information.

One thought clearly stood out from the rest though – Why in the world did Severus keep surprising him?


	30. Upheaval and Rebellion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During which everything crashes towards the climax.

Harry breathed in the scent of lilies as he hugged his mother goodbye. Something told him that this may very well be the last time he ever got to hug her – in this world or any other.

"Will you be alright without us?"

Harry pulled back from the hug, looked at his mother's gently wrinkled face, and smiled reassuringly. "Of course I will, you'll only be gone for a couple of weeks."

"I know, but I still worry."

"Lily, the boy will be fine. He's quite capable of watching over himself – he is almost forty."

"Severus, you just called this almost forty-year old a 'boy', so no calling the kettle black."

"Hmph," Snape grunted as he crossed his arms.

Harry chuckled, they really did work well together; his father had made the right choice.

Lily gave Harry one last kiss on the check. As she backed up this time she grabbed his right hand and gave the memory ring on his finger a quick kiss, "Nice ring, it suites you."

"Thanks, Mother."

A few minutes later and his mother was in the car with all of the bags and Snape was staring at Harry – his customary sneer in place. Harry stuck out his hand, "Goodbye, sir."

Snape eyed it coldly for a moment before taking it. As soon as their hands were clasped Harry found himself jerked towards Snape, until Snape's mouth was almost touching Harry's ear.

"Listen quickly; your mother doesn't know this is for good, I'll tell her when we arrive, I think she might suspect though. The whole mansion is bugged, except my office, and she had no reason to go in there. The Fuhrer trusts no one – not even his wife – remember that. Now, put a look of fear on your face and pretend I just threatened you."

Snape pulled back and stared at Harry, "Well, boy?"

Harry put on his best fearful expression and snapped to an almost attention, "Yes, sir!"

"Good, see you in a couple of weeks."

Harry watched as Snape strode purposefully to the car and got in. As the car pulled away Harry waved at his mother and blew her one final kiss, which she returned. He couldn't believe that things were starting – it was unreal. Something about today told him that this was it – either the world changing would end or he'd move on to another world.

He didn't know why he was so sure this time – he just was.

XXX

Five hours later Harry pulled out his phone and checked the time – two minutes to go.

He cast a sidelong glance at Draco, who was standing on the other side of the doorway. The two of them were guarding one of the entrances to the Assembly Room, where the Ministers and Generals were gathered to await the Fuhrer.

The other four guarded the other two entrances to the room. Somehow the twins had hacked into the online program the government used for Guard assignments and gotten the six of them these posts for the day. All of the other Guards were either unarmed and in the room or off for the day.

No weapons were allowed in the Fuhrer's presence – except for his Elite Guards and only three of them were around him at a time.

Harry ran his fingers over the snitch-shaped cufflinks on his uniform, trying to calm his nerves, as the last arrival came barreling down the corridor. The poor Minister of Agriculture: a very rotund, red-faced man that never seemed to be anywhere on time.

Harry opened the door and let the man in as his phone buzzed, letting him know that it was noon. As Harry closed the door he saw the Fuhrer, followed by his guards and wife enter through the back panel into the room.

Good, everything was going perfectly.

As the door clicked shut he sent out the readied messages.

He sent one to Angelina, Draco, Luna, Justin, and Michael:

Time to move. Lock the room up quietly and enter the code. Then head to the Fuhrer's entrance.

He sent another to Regulus Black:

If you want to avenge your brother, than forget the answer to the question that you'll soon be asked.

Things moved in a blur after that. Draco gave a grunt of surprise when he realized it was happening already, but that didn't stop him from acting. The two of them quietly locked the doors and entered the code to seal them – only the Fuhrer's code and the Minister of State Security's code combined could open the room now. And that couldn't occur until an hour had passed.

Hopefully Sirius had been right and his brother was loyal. They were going to have to take over the building in an hour though, just to be on the safe side.

"I'm going to go let them in, I'll join you as soon as they're in." Harry said hurriedly to Draco.

"Alright, good luck."

"You, too."

Harry ran off to the stairs. Down in the basement was an old sewer entrance that they had discovered a year or so earlier. That was how everyone else was coming in.

"What took you so long?" Ron said as soon as Harry unlocked the door to the cellar.

"Oh, shut up, Ron. We don't have time for that," Harry muttered.

"He's right you know," Ginny added.

"Hmph, of course you'd side with him."

"Yes, of course. Hello, darling," Ginny gave Harry a quick kiss.

"Hey, can you two stop making out so we can get down to business?" The twins asked.

"Yes, please, I think I'm about to be sick." Tonks said as she pushed past Harry and Ginny.

"That's probably just the smell from the sewer. The gases that have been gathering down here create quite a stench when inhaled. It can make you physically ill if you aren't careful." Hermione said this as she pulled off the mask she'd used. "Now, minutes are ticking. Everyone, go take care of your targets, we're running out of time."

People Harry knew and quite a few more that he didn't know said "yes, ma'am" and started running up the stairs and off in all directions – they were all armed to the teeth though.

Harry glanced over at his partner for this endeavor – Ron. He didn't know why Hermione had insisted that they work together – something about conflict making you more aware or some such rubbish.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

"Kay, follow me."

"Alright."

Harry led the way back up the stairs and down a maze of corridors until he reached the antechamber for the Assembly Room.

Justin and Michael stood outside, weapons drawn and looking very fidgety. They did smile in relief when they saw Harry.

"Everything going alright?" Harry asked them.

"So far so good, we have had one hiccup though. The monitors in the antechamber show us that we're missing the Minister of Transportation and he was supposed to be here today. Angelina and Luna ran off to find him, we can't let one get free or we're in trouble." Justin informed Harry.

"Alright, is Draco inside?"

Michael nodded, "He's watching the monitors – they haven't noticed the doors are locked yet."

"Alright, we'll be inside." Harry found himself frowning as he entered the antechamber, everything was going entirely too smoothly. Sure, they'd misplaced a Minister, but there should be more hiccups than this. If things went too well now, that just meant that the screw-up later would be all the worse.

Draco looked up from his spot by the monitors, a tied and gagged guard in the chair next to him. "Everything going well?"

"Too well, it's giving me a bad feeling."

Draco frowned, "So it's not supposed to go well?"

Ron rolled his eyes, "What this idiot is trying to say is that the better it goes, the worse the screw-up will be when it comes."

Draco's eyebrows shot up as he eyed Ron, "Who's this?"

"Ginny's brother, he doesn't like me."

"Ah, I see that."

"Yes, he seems to think no one is good enough for his sister."

"Most brothers seem to be like that, I'm glad I don't have a sister. Or that Luna doesn't have a brother."

"Yes, you're rather lucky in that regard."

"You know, I am, aren't I?"

Ron's face grew redder and redder as Draco and Harry kept talking and ignoring him. "Will you two please shut up?" He eventually hissed, but this time his face was the same color as his hair.

Harry looked at Ron, "I guess we should, we are in the midst of a rebellion."

"Somehow, I'd forgotten that." Draco said, his customary wicked grin in place.

"Isn't it funny how easily we forget things?"

"I guess that's what happens when we're having fun."

"I think you're right."

"I know I'm–"

Draco was cut off by the sounds of gunfire outside. The three men froze for an instant before gripping their rifles and edging towards the door.

Ron reached out and turned the knob.

He slowly pushed the door open.

Justin lay on the ground, his rifle across his chest as blood pooled from it. His eyes stared up blankly at the ceiling.

Next to him, sticking out around the door, was Michael's unmoving arm.

Draco growled low in his throat at the sight. Before Ron or Harry knew what was happening he was letting out a war cry and running into the corridor firing at the two men that had killed Justin and Michael.

By the time Ron and Harry were out the door and behind him the men were dead on the ground and Draco was sporting a wound in his side.

"Idiot, why'd you go out there alone?" Harry yelled at Draco as he helped him sit.

Draco just grunted in pain and clutched his side.

Ron came over, his hands covered in blood from checking the four men that were down, "They're all dead."

"Damn it!" Draco shouted, his face screwed up in pain.

It was hard for Harry to believe that this was the same man that had blown up half a city street to kill him.

There was a noise from behind them and Harry and Ron whirled around to see the Fuhrer's wife, Bellatrix Riddle, standing in the doorway. A wicked smile was on her twisted, wrinkled face.

Why was she there? They were still inside the hour time limit; the code couldn't be lifted, so no one should be able to get in or out of the Assembly Room.

"I thought I heard something. I'm so glad I checked. Now, who tied up the guard in here? Come on, do tell." Harry and Ron just stared at her. "Oh, you won't talk? Well, I suppose I'll have to call my love in here, he'll sort you out. Now, if you'll just come with me…" She started to raise her right hand, Harry saw a glint of metal, and then a second later he heard a gunshot.

Harry froze, half expecting to feel a bullet pierce his body. When no pain came he felt himself breathe again just in time to see Bellatrix slowly fall backwards, a red flower blooming on her dress.

Harry looked over at Ron. There was a hard expression on the red-head's face as he lowered his gun. "That was for Hermione's parents you heartless bitch."

Before the words could even sink in there was shouting coming from the antechamber. An instant later there stood the Fuhrer with his trio of elite guards before him.

In a glance Voldemort's red eyes seemed to take in the situation. "Which one of you shot her? Draco Malfoy, can you tell me?"

Harry looked down at Draco, fear clutching his chest.

Draco shook his head, "No, sir. World spinning." Draco then gasped and clutched his side again, his face screwed up in pain.

"Ah, well, which one of you two was it? Tell me and I won't kill both you." The man these people called the Fuhrer, who Harry had known longer as Voldemort, though some still called him Tom Riddle, stared at Harry and Ron. His red eyes were blazing with fury and hate, but no pain. There was no way out of this. His guard's guns were aimed at their heads and the hour was only half up. No one would be up here for a while.

Harry felt Ron shift next to him and knew what the red-head was going to do, but Harry couldn't let him do it. Ron was a father. Ron hadn't been born to fight this man.

Anyway, Harry was getting used to sacrificing himself for his friends, and, no matter how Ron felt about him in this world, he was still Harry's friend.

No, Harry was going to do the only thing he could do.

He was going to sacrifice himself and buy Ron some time.

Maybe, just maybe, someone could show up and rescue Ron before anyone else died.

"It was me." Harry said loudly and clearly, his chin going up in defiance. "I shot that heartless slime of a woman you called your wife."

"Harry, what–" Ron started, but Harry punched him.

"Don't be a hero Ron, give my love to Ginny."

Harry stood up and threw the Grindle down the hall, as far from Voldemort as he could make it go. He didn't want him to touch it. Harry turned and stared into the Fuhrer's blood-red eyes.

Fear clutched his chest, but he pushed it aside. There was no way he was going to let Voldemort know he was afraid.

"Well, what's taking you so long, are you going to make me pay for killing your slimy wife? Or are you just going to stare me to death, like a little kid on a playground?" Harry wasn't sure where the words came from, but they gave him intense satisfaction.

Voldemort gingerly stepped over his dead wife and approached Harry as the guards trained their weapons on Ron. When their noses were almost touching Voldemort hissed out, "Nobody mocks me."

Then his hands were up around Harry's neck, slowly crushing the air out him. The world slowly grew black as Voldemort laughed, "Are you too much of a weakling to fight back? Just like your father. Oh, don't widen your eyes in surprise, Harry Potter. I know who you are, I've been watching you grow up and now I'm going to watch you die."

Harry's world grew completely black as Voldemort's high, cruel laugh filled his ears.

Then, even the laughter was gone.

Harry was sinking into the black nothingness, like he had three times before, when something cold reached out and grabbed his arm.

"I don't think so," a cold, hard voice said.


	31. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry confronts things and discovers how and why his world changing has been occurring.

The voice hit Harry like a wave, rushing through him and making him shiver. At the same time the pull on his arm grew tighter and gave a small jerk.

A moment later Harry could see again – not that there was much to see.

He lay in a world of pure whiteness. There was nothing around him at all, he wasn't even sure what he was laying on.

Cautiously Harry sat up. His hands rested on something solid, even though the "ground" didn't look any different than the "air" in front of his face.

As he sat there, looking around, he slowly came to the realization that he was naked. There weren't even glasses on his face or contacts in his eyes – though he thought he could see perfectly despite this. It was hard to tell if his vision was good when there was nothing to see but himself.

A little shiver went up Harry's spine and he looked around again, hoping that something might have appeared that he could use to cover himself.

As if on cue, a glass box appeared a little ways away from him. Harry stood up and walked over it, not noticing that the ground lost it's whiteness and become dull concrete wherever he took a step.

The box had no latch or hinges, but when Harry touched the lid it opened, as if it was just waiting for his touch.

Inside lay three objects that continually changed shape. It took Harry a moment to realize what the shapes were.

One object appeared to be his Snitch cufflinks, an instant later it was his lightning bolt necklace, then it became the watch from his Police Memories, before, finally, it turned into his Invisibility Cloak. Then it started the cycle again.

Confused, Harry turned his attention to the next object. There lay the ring of memories that Snape had given him, then it became the engagement ring he'd found in his parent's security box, then the old pearl ring he'd given Ginny in his Police Memories, and then, finally, it turned into the Resurrection Stone.

Something niggled at the back of Harry's mind, trying to emerge from under all the memories it was buried under. Harry stopped to think, trying to draw it out, but it wouldn't come, so he turned his attention to the last object.

Their lay the Grindle, looking clean and new – as if it hadn't just been used in a rebellion. Then it turned into a familiar looking football with his signature on it. Next came a familiar looking pen-like object with a needle on one end – his insulin shot from his days as a diabetic. The last object was a wand, and not just any wand, but the Elder Wand.

Something clicked in Harry's head when he saw the wand.

These weren't just random objects, these were the Deathly Hallows.

What were they doing here? Why were they changing forms?

"Haven't figured it out, have you?"

Harry jumped and turned around to face the source of the hard, cold voice.

Not far from him stood a figure cloaked in dark robs and leaning on a scythe. Harry couldn't see inside the robes to the face, but he had the feeling that he wasn't looking at a dementor.

"Who are you?" Harry asked as he cautiously stood up, his nakedness forgotten for the moment.

There was a little rush of wind that sounded like a sigh from the figure. "You really are dense, aren't you? It's amazing that you got away from me for this long, you've been a lot of trouble Harry Potter. If you hadn't gone about changing so much in this last world I probably never would have found you."

The figure moved a little and Harry's eyes caught on the scythe. Again, something clicked. At his feet lay the three Deathly Hallows and across from him stood a dark figure in a robe. How could he have not seen it?

"You're Death, aren't you?"

The figure gave a hard, cold chuckle, "I see you're finally putting two and two together. Now, can you figure out why you and I are here? Talking in – well, where are we?"

It was then that Harry realized that the blinding whiteness was gone. He was now standing in a rather familiar building filled with rails, plastic chairs, and concrete.

"I think we're in King's Cross Station."

"Ah, it must mean something to you. I suppose it's because you've reached a crossroads in your life, or rather, lives. Now, can you tell me why we're here?"

Harry looked around, then down at the Hallows again, then back up at Death. As he did this he dug through memories long buried under many lives. Finally, he found what he was looking for.

"I'm the Master of Death? That's it, isn't it? That's why I won't stay dead."

Death gave a little shrug, "You're partly correct. If it was just that you were the Master of Death we'd be in a different situation. You'd still be in your little Magic World, but you'd be a sort of zombie. Never really living, but unable to die. You'd eventually go crazy as you watched your loved ones grow old and die. Until, one day, you'd plead with me to take back the Deathly Hallows and just let you die. This is what I wanted to happen. It even almost happened with Albus Dumbledore, but, alas, fate put her hand into the mix and stopped that from happening."

Harry frowned, "Why didn't that happen to me? Why did I keep switching worlds?"

Death let out another one of those sigh-like breezes. "That's because every single time you died you did it willingly so as to save another. I never counted on a willing sacrifice becoming the Master of Death. It never seemed possible that the Elder Wand would fall into a selfless person's hands, but, it did. Your first sacrifice was for the world, your second was for Ginny, your third was for Hermione, and your final one was for Ron. Because of that your body died, but your soul remained pure. It went in search of a new body that fit it, which just happened to be occupied by another version of your soul. You've become the opposite of a Horcrux. Instead of splitting your soul up, you now contain four different versions of your soul. If I don't stop you from acquiring more you'll become truly immortal – like a god."

"Would that be so bad? Couldn't I protect those I love better that way?"

"No, you'd become like me – unable to truly interact with anyone. Even now, I can only interact with you because you've cheated me – just like I could interact with the Peverell Brothers. It's a very lonely existence. Looking at you I think you'd bestow the ability to protect on people. You'd grant others the strength to do what you've done, but you'd be alone. Completely alone."

Harry shuddered at the thought of being alone. His friends were the reason he lived, but, despite this, some part of him liked the idea of being able to help people protect their loved ones. True, it would be lonely, but it would help people.

"Is that the only choice left to me?"

"No, you can give me back the Hallows and return to one of your worlds. I'd promise you and your loved ones a long and happy life in that world. You'd retain control of the Elder Wand, but, eventually, when you die in your bed, surrounded by your loved ones, it would return to me."

"Only one world?"

"Yes, your souls are too merged together to split up without murdering people and I don't think that's in you. Whichever world you pick you'd return to the day of your death."

"How can I pick a world? I have loved ones and memories in each one."

"Would it help if I told you what happens to each world if you stay dead there?"

Harry nodded.

"Alright," Death gave a tap of his scythe and Harry was clothed in black wizard's robes as the concrete floor between him and Death shimmered and became a picture.

Death began to speak then, and as he spoke the corresponding images were shown to Harry. He watched as Hagrid carried his lifeless body towards Hogwarts. As Neville killed Nagini. As reinforcements arrived and the Death Eaters found themselves unable to kill or permanently stop any of the defenders. Eventually Voldemort grew frustrated and found himself cornered by Neville. Every spell he cast hit Neville as if it was nothing, and they only stopped when Neville drove Gryffindor's Sword into Voldemort's chest.

Then there were more images – flashes of his friends mourning him and burying him, along with everyone else that lost their lives. Then there was Hermione and Ron's wedding. Harry watched as Ginny graduated and became a professional Quidditch player. One day she married an American Quidditch player and had three little ones that drove her crazy. Everyone moved on with their lives and grew up, but he watched them visit his grave every May and leave flowers and tears.

Tears sprang to Harry's eyes as he watched his friends, now approaching a century; visit his grave with all of their children.

"Have you seen enough?" Death asked softly.

Harry nodded, not trusting his voice.

"Alright, next one."

Death tapped his scythe and Harry found himself wearing his old football uniform.

The images on the floor changed and Harry watched as Ginny cried for days, dipping into depression, and eventually settling into it. His heart lurched into his throat as he saw her visit St. Paul's Cathedral and climb up to the Whisper Gallery. She stood on the edge, holding onto the railing, looking down, and Harry could see the hopelessness in her eyes. As he watched her muscles tensed as she prepared to jump.

Harry screamed out a "NO!" just as a familiar looking man put his hand on Ginny's arm. He had a dark face and a guitar strapped to his back. He said something to Ginny and she nodded slowly before letting him lead her away from the railing. They took a seat on one of the benches and talked softly for awhile. As Harry watched them he realized why the man looked so familiar – Harry had seen him the day he first ate dinner with Hermione and Ron. Harry knew he should recognize him from somewhere else. It took a moment, but he realized that the man was Dean Thomas, Harry's old classmate.

Then the scene changed and Harry watched Ginny come out of her depression and befriend Dean. Eventually they got married and had a couple children.

One of them she named Harry.

After Harry saw his namesake get married he asked Death to show him the next one. Harry's outfit switched to his detective uniform.

Harry watched with bated breath until someone realized that Ginny was kidnapped. It took them almost two full days to find her and by then the damage was done. She was alive, but barely so. She was scarred – mentally and physically. While she recuperated in the hospital Fenrir Greyback was interrogated until he spilled it all.

Certain parties had disagreed with current policies and so had wanted to kill Hermione and her child so that Snape would go a little crazy and lose the support of the Queen. When this was unearthed Snape gained even more popularity and supported. Thus allowing him to lead the government into a new era of success as the United Kingdom became one of the strongest countries in the world.

Eventually Ginny was released from the hospital. She used Harry's insurance money to buy a small house in the countryside near Harry's parents. It was there that she raised AJ and wrote book and movie reviews instead of theatre reviews. Harry watched as she eventually fell in love again when she was past sixty. He was also a widower and the two of them settled into a quiet life of companionship in the countryside until the day they died.

But Ginny never made it through the night without a nightmare.

The images changed, as did Harry's outfit, and Harry was watching the scene he'd so recently left, now in his Fuhrer's Guard uniform.

As his body slumped to the ground the Fuhrer turned to Ron just as Hermione, Ginny, and Luna came racing around the corner. Ginny let out a scream when she saw Harry's body and opened fire on Voldemort as Hermione and Luna took out the guards. The Fuhrer fell, a bullet through his brain, and so did the guards.

Harry watched as Hermione broke. She threw herself into Ron's arms and kept saying, over and over again, "I can't lose anyone else, I can't."

Luna flew to Draco's side, trying to stop the blood flow as tears slipped slowly down her face.

Ginny went straight to Harry's body and started giving him CPR, trying to restore the air that the Fuhrer had stolen.

It didn't work.

The images sped up then.

Draco and Luna got married and took up positions as co-rulers of the Third Reich. Slowly they turned things around, broke up the camps and made the Dole more reasonable. Eventually they passed on a humane country that was accepted by the world to their children. The Third Reich was renamed the European Union and became the model plan for uniting a continent under one government.

That was only one thread.

In another thread Hermione and Ron helped rebuild Europe as they raised their son in a new world of peace and prosperity.

The person Harry cared about most though was Ginny. It turned out she was pregnant with Harry's child. As the baby grew within her she helped the other rebels rebuild the country. She contacted Lily to let her know she would be a grandmother and learned the entire story.

So, when her little boy was born, she gave him the longest name in her family – Harry James Sirius Remus Weasley.

Her brothers told her it was ostentatious, but she didn't care.

This Ginny never remarried. She devoted her life to raising their son and rebuilding Europe.

As Harry watched his son marry a sweet girl with golden curls he found himself unable to keep back the tears.

By the time he stopped crying the images were gone and he was alone at King's Cross Station with the chest of Hallows and Death.

"Are you ready to chose? I can return you to any of these worlds with a long and happy life for the Hallows. If I return you whatever I showed you will change for that world, it will be completely rewritten. Or, you can keep switching worlds until you become like me – alone, but powerful."

Harry stared off into space over Death's shoulder. Trying to think, but finding it difficult. One thing kept bothering him, "I have one question."

"Yes?"

"I don't want to part with the Invisibility Cloak. It's the only thing of my father's that I have and it's been in my family for generations. So, could we cut it out of the deal? It, in itself, doesn't make someone a Master of Death."

Death seemed to consider this for a moment. Finally, after what could have been ages, he spoke. "Yes, I suppose you can keep that. But, if you eventually have no descendants I will reclaim it in that world."

Harry's brows rose, "And will you promise not to hurry that along?"

Death gave that breezy sigh again, "Yes, I promise not to interfere in the lives of any of your descendents."

Harry nodded, "Alright, now I need to think."

"You have all the time in the world."

Harry moved over so that he was sitting facing the glass box with the three ever-changing Hallows in it. Every time they switched to a new form his thoughts drifted into those memories. What world would he change and spend the rest of his life in? Or would he give it all up and become a god so as to help others protect those they love?

He didn't know.

He sat there for a long time. He wasn't sure how long, time had no meaning here. Finally he made up his mind.

Carefully he stood up and turned back to face Death.

"I've made up my mind."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Alright. I want you to close your eyes and only think about what your answer."

Harry did as he was told and an instant later he heard the scythe thump one more time. He felt the cold, hard grip again and then all he knew was darkness.


	32. The Real Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A choice is made, a destiny set forth.

A weak light filtered in through the room's one window.

It illuminated a wall full of pictures. Pictures filled with happy, smiling people.

These happy, smiling people looked down on the room's single occupant as he stared back up at them.

This single occupant sat in a winged back chair, lost in memories that no one else could see.

There was a light rap on the door and the occupant gave a start and looked over at the doorway. He wasn't expecting anyone, it had been a very long time since there had been a knock on that door.

"Come in," he called out with a voice almost rusty from disuse.

The door swung open silently revealing a figure in long dark robes carrying a scythe. He looked around the small room and then stepped in silently, shutting the door behind him.

The occupant stared at Death for a moment as Death stared right back at him. Finally, the occupant spoke.

"Hello, Death. It's been a long time, I was wondering when you'd appear."

"Yes, it has been a long time. In truth, I thought I would see you long before now. You truly surprised me with your choice. It is not what I saw you picking."

The occupant shrugged, "I suppose I surprised myself, but, really, this was the only possible choice. It gave me hope and the ability to make a difference."

A breezy chuckle came from Death's hood, "You did make a difference, didn't you? I didn't even know that what you did was truly possible until you did it."

"That's because, for you, it wasn't possible. You are Death, you are inevitable, but this inevitable makes you limited."

"True."

The two of them stared at each other for a moment. Finally the occupant gave a flick of his wrist and a matching winged back chair appeared across from him.

"Please sit, I'm sure you want to know my reasoning."

Death nodded before gracefully taking a seat, "Again, you speak the truth."

The occupant gave a dry chuckle that was full of knowledge, "Unfortunately, I speak the truth much too often."

"That is better than the alternative."

"Perhaps."

The two of them lapsed into silence for a while. Finally, the occupant began to speak. His voice quickly filled the small room.

"I'm not sure what gave me the idea in the first place, but I was sure that I couldn't pick one of the worlds over the others. It would've sat wrong with me. Really, how could I leave behind a world with a son I never got to meet? Or a world where my love was tortured and scared for life because no one realized she was missing until it was too late? Or what about a world where she came so close to taking her own life? Even my original world, how could I leave that behind? The world where so many had died just so that I could live."

The occupant shook his head sadly. "I just couldn't do that, so I picked what could've been the coward's way out. I didn't pick any of them; instead, I devised a plan to give everyone a happy ending. I assumed that since you were Death, you had to have an opposite. There are two sides to every coin and you were only one side. And so I moved onwards, living life after life, until, finally, I reached a world where, when I entered, I lay upon my deathbed. There was no one to save in that world, everyone else I knew had already encountered you, and so I left without a fight."

Death shifted at these words, but still, he said nothing.

"When I awoke I was here in this place outside of time and space. Here I found myself finally capable of giving everyone a happy ending. It took a little while, but I figured out how to make copies of my various souls and memories. I sent each one back to each of the worlds I passed through. There, each copy did what I would've done if I had never left. They lived out a long life, making people safe and happy. Then, when there time came to leave, they came back to me, bringing me their new memories. It helped that I live in and out of time, able to travel between years as easily as worlds."

"Is it the same? Holding the memories, but not having really made them?" Death asked, his voice so quiet it was barely audible.

"In a way, these memories feel as real to me as the ones I know I lived through, but I know the truth."

"The truth?"

The occupant smiled a little. "Yes, the truth. That it doesn't matter if I know I lived through the memories or not. None of them are truly real."

"How are they not real? They're there, aren't they? In your mind, floating around, waiting for you to revisit them."

"Ah, but only one of them is real, and that's the one I'm making right now, as I talk to you. The rest are mere copies. The original, real memories have been lost. They are only ever real for an instant, but in that instant they are magnificent. When my copies came back they were real for an instant, and in that instant I lived a lifetime. But now, they are mere copies."

"I suppose I see what you mean, I never looked at it that way before." Death grew quiet for a moment, and then he spoke again. "What happened to the Hallows?"

The occupant smiled a little and ran his hand down the staff leaning against his chair. The staff was a silvery white with a black stone at the top of it.

"Ah, I see, so that's why you are what you are and not what I predicted."

"Yes."

"Do you regret your choice at all?"

"No, and I don't think I ever will. I made everyone happy and kept them safe. I can never regret that. Even now, I can continue to do this. Actually…I do believe I need to go do that now."

The occupant stood up and picked up a tall, white staff from where it had been leaning against his chair. Once his hand wrapped around it he was instantly covered in robes of pure white – robes that looked exactly like Death's, except for the color.

One black, one white, the two gods stood looking at each other for a moment. One carried a sharp, deadly scythe. The other carried a blunt, innocent staff.

Death was the first to break the silence.

"What are you going to do?"

"What I always do – go save someone."

"Ah, I think I know who you mean. It's a little boy, isn't it? He's about to be kidnapped by a serial killer. How are you going to stop me from taking him? I don't want to take him, but it is my job to take those that die."

"Yes, but it's my job to stop them from dying before their time. Right now, a detective is working hard on that case, all he needs is a little luck and he will rescue that little boy before it's too late. Just like my Police Copy rescued Ginny."

"You can't save that boy forever, he will die one day, and I will collect him."

"I know, but I can at least give him time to live and make memories of his own."

"True."

"Well, goodbye for now Death. We should do this again sometime."

"We should. Goodbye, Life. Or should I still call you Harry?"

The occupant let out a sad sigh, "Harry is gone, nothing but a memory. I'm Life now, just like you are now Death."

"That's true, but, maybe someday, you will be Harry again, just like I might stop being Death and go back to being Tom."

"So that was your name, Tom. That's a very common name."

"I know."

The two of them looked at each other for a moment. Silence stretched through the small room as the wall of pictures looked down upon them. After a while the silence was finally broken.

"Goodbye, Death."

"Goodbye, Life."

And so, the two gods left the room in which time and space don't exist. They went about their work of saving and taking lives, but, every once in a while, they returned to that small room and talked, slowly reliving memories and making them real once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading this story and appreciating it in whatever manner you found fitting. I hope you enjoyed it and hopefully I'll have more stories up soon. Life's a little busy right now though since I'm preparing to leave American soil for at least a year and go teach English in South Korea.
> 
> Thank you! Feel free to find me on fanfiction . net also. I have more stories up there. The name is the same: Enigmaticrose4

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter went from idea to complete in about an hour and during that time I planned out the rest. I scare myself sometimes... So I've never really wanted to write a HP fanfic with Harry Potter as the main because I love the stories too much to change them. That's why the only one I have is "The Journal of Lisa Turpin". Until this story, I was reading an Ouran/HP crossover by kage-no-tenshi16 when this idea just came upon me. I really hope you enjoy this. Please let me know if Harry is in character. I know the Dursleys aren't. But they really aren't supposed to be, as Harry is noticing.
> 
> Enjoy! Read! Review!


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